When there was Me and You
by Fly Kite
Summary: Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy onced shared a love. But that was all in the past, for Elizabeth is engaged to be married. Will that unrequited love triumph through misconceptions and deceit? Or will Darcy have to give Elizabeth up forever? R&R!
1. Nostalgic Reminiscence

a/n: Forgive me for such a short chapter. This idea came to mind suddenly and I began to write. I do not know if I will continue on with the story as I am already busy with my other fanfic Changed for Good.

please R&R! let me know what you like or dislike! I take my reviewers' suggestions/comments seriously.

Disclaimer: I do not own Jane Austen's story plot or any of her characters. Pride and Prejudice is her masterpiece--not mine.

* * *

Wind hustled gently between the trees, drawing gentle ripples across the clear water. Ducks swam to and fro, frolicking playfully in the pond. Elizabeth Bennet stared across the pond and into the distance, letting her mind wander away from her as it dived into a world where only imagination and fantasy existed. 

She imagined herself to be a member of high class society. There, she was a beautiful princess, and her prince was full of gallantry and charm. She wore a handsomely tailored periwinkle gown, and her hair was full of rhinestones and sparkles. She took her walks in a gorgeous garden laden with violets and roses, her prince by her side. There, they teased each other and laughed together. She danced through the winding path and—

Elizabeth stopped herself. Such a day dream would never come true, for it was no more than mere folly. She will never have a beautiful garden to admire; she will never have a prince of gallantry and charm. The world simply did not function that way. She had learned of it three and a half years ago when she met Mr. Darcy. He who seemed to be so close to her stood a world apart from her. But that was understandable. He was high above her reach; she was way below his. Their class difference inevitably set their different outlooks in life.

It had been two years since they last met. Although Jane was to marry Mr. Bingley within the week, she had not seen or heard from Mr. Darcy since he last left the country. What passed between them stood as a haunting memory she fought to push into the back of her mind and forget.

Still, no matter how hard Elizabeth tried, she could not forget. The short amount of time they had been together in bliss, the admiration they held for each other, the love that once existed. But that was all over. So quickly, so soon. But none of it mattered, Elizabeth reminded herself. None of it mattered because it was all in the past. None of it mattered because she was engaged and soon to be married.

None of it mattered until Elizabeth Bennet turned her eyes to the water and saw the familiar body of Mr. Darcy's reflection rippling across the small pond.


	2. A Bittersweet Encounter

Elizabeth's eyes widened and her body involuntarily tensed. She closed her eyes and shook her head, convinced that her previous day dream had evoked unwarranted hallucinations. However, when her eyes were opened again, Mr. Darcy's reflection remained as it was.

He looked thinner, paler, and older. His usual look of disdain was not present, and its absence was replaced with a desperate and longing look. He stood still, his hands hanging loosely by his side, his head slightly tilted towards Elizabeth. He stood still in his navy blue overcoat, as tall and as handsome as ever.

Elizabeth gasped and slowly turned around. She slowly drew her eyes to meet his, still in shock and disbelief at the man standing before her. It was he who had left her two years ago. It was he who had left without warning; he who turned his back to her without a second thought.

Both stared and took in each other's appearance, the tension between them uneasy yet bittersweet.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth slowly said as she quickly stood up and curtsied. It had been too long since she last uttered his name, and it rolled off of her tongue clumsily in its unfamiliarity.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet," said Darcy, as Elizabeth's heart took an unexpected leap. Although she had always loved the way Darcy said her name, she never thought that it would still send shivers down her body and quicken the pace of her heart. Blushing furiously, she looked down as a loud silence followed.

Finally, Elizabeth cleared her throat and decided to speak.

"What brings you here, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired her voice unsteady and shaking.

"The union of your sister and my closest friend," he replied. "And you," he added, nervously looking at Elizabeth, struggling to suppress his surge of affections and emotions for her. He had thought of her every day during their separation and dreamed of her every night.

Upon hearing Darcy's last statement, Elizabeth turned her head away. She reminded herself that she was to be married and burned in shame for having stronger feelings toward Darcy than she ever had toward her fiancé.

"It was a pleasure seeing you again, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied as she hastily curtsied again and hurried back to her home before Darcy was able to return her statement. She thought it best in her judgment to keep her distance from Darcy—the less contact, the better. She believed that her attempts to sever all emotions connected to Darcy will eventually be triumphantly successful.

It was too late, she told herself. Too late for even fate itself to intervene.

* * *

Darcy continued to watched Elizabeth until she disappeared between the trees. It was hardly the reunion scenario he had imagined and replayed in his mind over and over again. 

He had studied her carefully as she spoke to him and concluded that Elizabeth was indifferent and detached to him. She refused to look at him during the conversation and seemed faraway and distant. Without warning, she ended the conversation and walked away from him without any hint of hesitation. Although he was initially confident that Elizabeth was angry at his sudden departure, his confidence soon wavered and turned into doubt for his letters to her all went unanswered.

He had written to her consistently and persistently for a year. Not once did she reply. Not once did she write him a letter. Darcy confirmed his fears as he stood alongside the bank of the pond.

Elizabeth no longer loved him.

Emotions he had fought hard to suppress overflowed within him and took hold of him. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, shook with frustration and trembled at loss. He remained there until dusk, staring mindlessly beyond the pond. He looked down at the pond's darkening waters and scowled at his own fading reflection. Who was the man standing in front of him? What had happened to his ambition, his life, his love?

As the sun disappeared under the forest of trees, Darcy slowly turned and headed back to Netherfield.


	3. Regrets and Realizations

As Darcy stepped into the doors of Netherfield, Charles immediately ushered him in.

"Darcy! Where have you been all day? Come, everyone is waiting for you to start dinner," he exclaimed, dragging his reluctant friend into the dining parlor.

Darcy was met with a table full of people. Elizabeth's entire family was there in addition to a man he did not know. As Charles led Darcy over to his seat, Elizabeth's eyes briefly met with Darcy's and both crimsoned immensely before hastily looking away in opposite directions.

When all were seated, Charles cheerfully toasted to Jane and their approaching marriage. All except Darcy heartily returned his toast. As the first course was being served, Charles introduced Darcy to the man.

"This is my good friend, Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley and Derbyshire—the one I have spoken so much to you about."

"Mr. Darcy, what a pleasure it is to meet you," he said as he reached over to shake Darcy's hand. "I am Matthew Tennyson. Indeed, Charles has told me a lot about you. I hear that you are also well acquainted with the Bennets, especially with my Lizzy," he continued as he glanced lovingly at Elizabeth.

"_His Lizzy? What does that mean? His Lizzy?_" Darcy asked himself, starting to frown. "_Certainly Lizzy could not, would not be—_"

"Matthew is to be Elizabeth's husband," Charles said as he looked at Matthew with a cheery smile.

The color immediately drained out of Darcy's face as it momentarily contorted before he recomposed himself and softly asked, "When?"

"The wedding is to be in three months' time. You are more than welcome to attend, Mr. Darcy," said Matthew warmly.

Darcy, who was still shocked beyond words clumsily nodded in response. He instinctively turned to looked at Elizabeth, but her head was turned away from him as she conversed with Jane.

Throughout dinner, he closely observed Elizabeth. Although she did not seem indifferent to Matthew, her affections toward him appeared to be more cold and detached than what her usual character allowed. Frankly, Matthew's attachment to her greatly exceeded hers to him.

After dinner was finished, everyone gathered in Charles's sitting room. Matthew announced that he needed to return to town in preparation of his departure the following day. He had some business in Kent he needed to attend to and would be gone for the rest of the week. He gave his blessings to Charles and Jane for the wedding that he was going to miss and walked over to Elizabeth to say his goodbyes.

"Lizzy, my love, I shall miss you immensely," he said, drawing Elizabeth closer to him.

"I will miss you too, Matthew. You will be back on Monday, I presume?" she asked.

"Yes, I will be back—perhaps a day earlier to see you if I can. But whether or not you like it, you will be hearing from me every day. And you will be sure to write back," he answered, smiling affectionately at Elizabeth.

"Yes, I will write, Matthew. Now go, it is getting late and you need to rest," she said as he gently kiss her.

"I love you, Lizzie," he whispered into her ear.

Elizabeth smiled and embraced her fiancé.

Sitting nearby, Darcy found that it took all of his efforts to stop himself from storming over to tear Elizabeth away from Matthew's arms. How he wished that he was the one holding her, telling her that he would write to her everyday, hearing her assure him that she would write back. How he wanted to whisper into her ears how much he loved her and always will. How he wanted her to be his.

Jane walked over to Elizabeth who was still standing in the place Matthew last left her.

"Are you going to miss him?" she asked, gently putting her arm around her sister's shoulder.

"No. Five days apart is nothing. I have suffered longer before. Much longer," Elizabeth answered as she left her sister for the other side of the room.

Upon hearing Elizabeth's last statement, Darcy hated himself even more for what he did. Was the establishment of the trading business really that important? So important that his newly founded wealth costed him the love of his life? If he had not gone to Italy to secure the trading mark, would he be in Matthew's place? Why was he so foolish as to leave Elizabeth for money and wealth?

No, he told himself. It wasn't for the money. Elizabeth mattered more to him than all the riches in the world. It was for his family—for the Darcy family legacy. He had to protect his family trades as they were in his charge. He could not lose a business that had been in his family for generations, passed on by father to son. It was his duty to his own father and ancestors.

Torn between thoughts, Darcy sat rigidly on the chair, wanting more than anything to fix his relations with Elizabeth, though not knowing how.

The Bennets soon found it an appropriate time to return home. Darcy watched Elizabeth as she thanked Charles for dinner and boarded the carriage without a single glance at him. Soon after they left, Darcy retired to his guest chamber and stared aimlessly at the bed, lost in thoughts.

After a long while, Darcy concluded that he was to set things straight with Elizabeth in the morning.

* * *

Elizabeth lay on her side of the bed, unable to sleep. Darcy had returned without warning, igniting all her previous affections toward him. She thought she had long forgotten him long ago. She thought that the only remnants of their love existed in the fading memories that were forcefully thrusted into the back of her mind. She was wrong. 

There he was, standing by the pond, searching her with his eyes for the love they once shared. There he was, alongside her, greeting her like he always had with a twinkle in his eyes and a sheepish smile. She had forgotten the rush of joy when he was around her, the lurching of her stomach, the leaping of her heart. Darcy's appearance triggered her memories of love's sudden silences and sudden heat. His return reminded her what it was like to truly be in love.

Three months before her wedding, Elizabeth Bennet realized that she loved another man.

* * *

a/n: It is hard for me to write two stories at once. I'm thinking of putting one of them on hiatus. Your reviews will give me encouragement and help keep this story alive. The more interest I see people have in this story, the sooner I'll update. If you wish to find out what happens, please review and let me know. Thanks. 


	4. A Morning Together

Darcy woke with a start. It was early morning and he wanted to slip out of the house to talk with Elizabeth. He had spent the entire night trying to gather up his courage. Although he debated within himself the suitability of his actions, Darcy felt that his feelings must be made known.

He quickly dressed and combed his hair. As he descended the stairs to leave the house, a woman was heard talking demandingly to several servants outside. Moments later, she stormed into the house and threw her hands up in the air, her velvet red dress swishing violently with her motion.

It was none other than Caroline Bingley.

* * *

As Caroline began to march into the corridor, a tall figure caught the corner of her eye and she turned her head, catching sight of Darcy. 

"Mr. Darcy! There you are. I have been looking for you," she said walking towards Darcy, her previous ill temperament quickly changing to one full of charm and charisma.

"Since you are moving back from Italy, Georgiana has asked me to inform you that your belongings are being sent straight to Pemberley," she continued.

"Thank you for passing on the message, Miss Bingley," he answered, continuing his walk down the stairs.

Caroline eyed him carefully.

"Are you heading somewhere?" she inquired while trying to conjure up ways in which she could have Darcy all to herself for the day.

Darcy, however, had no such intentions.

"Yes, actually I am. Please tell everyone that I will not be joining them for breakfast. Thank you," Darcy quickly replied as he turned and headed out through the back door, not wanting Caroline to see that he was going towards the direction of Elizabeth's house.

* * *

As he stepped outside, he heard the familiar voice of Elizabeth. Following her voice, he found her and Jane in front of the doorstep, being welcomed in by Caroline Bingley. 

After a brief glimpse of Elizabeth, he went back through the door and into the house. Striding towards the main entrance hall, he stopped short as Elizabeth's eyes met his.

"Mr. Darcy! What a surprise! Have you not just told me that you were leaving for business?" asked Caroline, her eyebrows cocked in suspicion of Darcy's true motives.

Darcy remained silent, his gaze still focused upon Elizabeth.

She was wearing a milky white dress and her hair was skillfully twisted into an elegant knot. Although the dress was not stylish, it clung tightly onto her waist and hung loosely at her hips, where long and beautiful creases formed and flowed gracefully to the floor, making Elizabeth appear taller and slimmer.

Turning to her guests, Caroline continued, "It is such a pleasure to be seeing you all again after two years. My stay with Mr. Darcy in Italy has been most delightful. I do regret on having to return here."

"Is not Italy the most beautiful country, Mr. Darcy?" she inquired, leaning closer to him.

"Yes, it is," Darcy answered roughly with brevity.

Elizabeth's eyes narrowed. "_So that was what happened,_" she thought to herself. "_Darcy left me for Caroline Bingley._"

* * *

Darcy winced at Caroline's mentioning of her stay with him in Italy. She was the one who pleaded to go with him and Georgiana. With Charles being his closest friend, he could not refuse his sister. Although Caroline claimed that her intentions were to keep Georgiana company in a foreign country, it was obvious to Darcy that her obsequious act was an attempt to spend more time with him. 

She had always been spitefully jealous of Elizabeth, never once forgetting a chance to remind her of her lowly status, never once skipping to make harsh critiques behind her back. On the day Darcy left Elizabeth, she was the one who held a triumphant smile. Although Darcy had told her innumerable times that his feelings for her were no more than friendship, Caroline Bingley never quite understood his point.

* * *

"Please, do come in. I suspect my brother will be here soon enough. Please come with me to the dining parlor," she said, smiling at Jane. As they proceeded to the hall, Caroline strode by Elizabeth and gave her a wide sneer. 

Darcy noticed the unfriendly exchange Caroline imposed on Elizabeth and loathed himself for not having the courage to speak up and shield Elizabeth from her malevolence.

As they reached the parlor, Caroline seated herself next to Darcy. Seeing them next to each other, Elizabeth's face grew pale as she determinedly took the seat furthest away from Darcy.

Caroline broke the silence at the table and spoke.

"Have you ever been out of the country, Miss Elizabeth?" Caroline asked, purposely trying to single her out.

"No, I have not," she replied. "I have not the time to take such leisure with myself."

"Never? Why certainly, a young lady such as yourself surely must have been outside of England," Caroline condescendingly continued, thoroughly enjoying herself. "You are soon to be married, are you not? I suggest that you and your fiancé take a turn about France or Italy. I find those countries extremely pleasing to my taste."

"Thank you for your suggestion, Miss Bingley. I am sure Mr. Tennyson would be glad to hear of it."

"Mr. Tennyson—is that his name? Do tell me about him, Miss Elizabeth, for I am most anxious to hear about him. What is his occupation? His family background? I presume that he is a fairly respectable man," Caroline said, hoping that Elizabeth will answer affectionately and shatter all of Darcy's hopes.

"My husband to be is a respectable man indeed. I will be honored to carry his name. Matthew is a lawyer as is his father. He is of the middle class, but his connections are better than most men of his status," Elizabeth concisely replied.

"Do you not love him so? I can see it in your eyes," Caroline continued, her grin broadened by Darcy's pale expression. It was time to strip Darcy of all his hopes.

"Yes, I do love him," Elizabeth softly answered, looking down at her plate. She knew of Caroline's intentions and told herself that Caroline's means to discourage Darcy was for the better. Even if her sole intention was so that she could have Darcy.

Across the table, Darcy's heart took a heavy fall. His face drained completely of color, and he quickly turned his head so that Elizabeth could not see his mortified face.

At precisely this moment, Charles Bingley stepped into the room and promptly seated himself next to Jane.

"Good morning, brother. I was just asking Miss Elizabeth about her fiancé. He sounds very suitable and handsome," Caroline said, looking at her brother and wondering what his opinion of Matthew would be.

"You are quite right, Caroline. Matthew is a man of charms. He has been so much help to me through all this wedding planning and looks forward with anticipation to his own," he cheerfully said. "Darcy, you must acquaint yourself with him. I am sure that you will find him to your liking," he added, oblivious to his friend's current state of distress.

Smiling, he planted a kiss on Jane's cheek and greeted her.

When breakfast was served, everyone at the table ate silently as Caroline recounted her stay in Italy.

"Georgiana really does love it there, and Darcy's house in Italy is most charming. Although it is remarkably smaller than Permberley, I absolutely doted on it," said Caroline airily, taking a bite of her croissant.

"And have I mentioned all those beautiful women in Italy wearing the most stylish dresses and shoes! We were fortunate to meet the lot of them at balls and dinner parties. Their air of walking is beyond graceful and the auras in which they present themselves in are most poised and respectable. Were they not the most beautiful women you have ever seen, Darcy?" asked Caroline, setting her hand on his arm.

Darcy sharply shrank away from Caroline and resumed eating. Charles and Jane pretended to have not seen the reaction from Darcy and quickly looked down at their plates as the clatter of forks against dishes echoed throughout the room.

"Jane, are the details to your wedding dress attended to and finished?" asked Elizabeth glancing at her sister after deciding to break the impending silence.

"Oh! I shall have to finalize them today with your help, Lizzy," she answered, wiping her mouth with a table napkin.

"I suppose we should call the tailor and ask if she can make an even more accurate adjustment to your waist measurements. After that, you shall look absolutely amazing at your wedding," Elizabeth said, smiling affectionately at her sister.

Turning to Charles with a cheeky grin, she said, "You are lucky to have my sister, Mr. Bingley, for I assure you that you will never see a more beautiful bride than she."

"I am sure of it," Charles cheerfully replied, gazing lovingly at Jane.

"And after my wedding, it will be time to plan yours," Jane said to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sighed and responded, "I suppose so. There is just so much to do—and so little time. Matthew and I have yet to decide upon the guest list. As much as I would love for Charlotte to be there, the prospect of Mr. Collin's attendance is most—"

Elizabeth paused as she tried to find a word to justify her opinion. Unable to locate a word, she abruptly left her sentence unfinished and continued on, "I find it rather difficult to invite a man who once asked for my hand in marriage to attend my wedding."

Upon hearing this, Darcy finally spoke. His voice was rigid and coarse.

"Kindly inform Mr. Tennyson that I will not be attending your wedding, Eliza—Miss Bennet. I cannot allow myself to cause you any inconvenience."

Darcy excused himself from the table and walked out of the room.

"Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth called as she rose from her seat and followed him.

She found him standing in the corridor outside. As she approached him, Darcy looked at her with a pained and wounded gaze.

"I did not mean to direct my statement in that sort of manner. Please, Sir, you have misunderstood me. You are more than welcome to attend my wedding," Elizabeth said.

"Please, Mr. Darcy," she said no louder than a whisper.

Darcy held her gaze for a long time. Emotions swelled within their bodies and threatened to betray their dispositions. They had yearned for each other's presence for so long, but now placed in front of each other, neither knew what to do.

Finally, Darcy took a step closer to Elizabeth and spoke, his voice soft and broken.

"You should have waited for me, Lizzy."

After a lingering glance, Darcy turned from Elizabeth and walked away.

Elizabeth watched him walk away with a teary gaze. She closed her eyes and leaned against the wall, lost in a sea of emotions. A wave of feelings came upon her and she sighed, lost and confused. Could she ever forget Darcy? Could she bring herself to marry a man who she did not love?

Elizabeth let out another frustrated sigh.

Was it not her who had always despised and rejected the idea of entering marriage without love? Although she knew that Matthew ardently admired and loved her, her heart ached in knowing that she could never return such affections.

Could she bring herself to marry Matthew? Or was she to follow after what her heart desired and yearned for so badly?

Unable to think of a solution, Elizabeth returned to the room and spent the rest of the morning busying herself with the finishing touches on Jane's wedding dress.

* * *

Elizabeth sat back in her chair and admired her sister. Jane stood before the mirror, dressed in her wedding gown.

Pearly white and interwoven with silk, the dress delicately wrapped around Jane's slender waist and gracefully fell in elegant creases at her feet. Tiny rhinestones and beads were embroidered along the bottom of the dress, bouncing off the sunlight as it brought color and life to the gown.

Standing in the bright rays of sunlight, Jane looked perfectly flawless. Some of her loose curls hung beautifully on the sides of her face and her eyes were the bluest of blue. Jane turned around in her gown and shyly smiled as Elizabeth looked at her sister in awe.

"Mr. Bingley must see you in this dress, Jane! You look absolutely—"

"Why, this certainly cannot be my lovely Miss Jane Bennet," interrupted a voice around the corner.

Accompanied by Darcy, Charles walked into the room towards Jane, his hands clasped delightfully onto his hips.

"Charles! You were not to see me in my wedding gown until our wedding!" Jane said, astonished and surprised.

"Really? Is that a tradition? Well, if that be the case, I am more than happy to break it," replied Charles light heartedly as he tried with great effort to pry his eyes off of his future bride.

"But what other surprise will you have from me then?" she asked, turning bright red.

"I will have plenty of others, Jane. I am sure of it," replied Charles in his good-natured tone.

Turning to Elizabeth, he added, "I believe you are right when you said this morning that your sister is to be the most beautiful bride ever to be married."

"And did you ever doubt me for the slightest moment?" Elizabeth teased with a sly smile.

"No—of course not! How can I? My Jane is most definitely the—"

Bingley caught himself in mid-sentence and stiffened with a mortified expression as his face turned as red as his hair.

Elizabeth's smile broadened and she turned to face Charles, allowing her eyes to laugh at him.

"I will not make you finish your sentence, Mr. Bingley, as I will allow you to save your compliments for your wedding day."

"You are too kind to trifle with me, Miss Bennet," he replied with a smile and a bow.

"Is Miss Bingley here? I have not seen her since breakfast," Jane questioned, looking at Charles. "I need her opinion on certain preparations for the wedding."

"Really?" asked Charles, his brows slightly arched.

"She is your sister, Charles, and therefore I think it necessary to include her opinions in some of the wedding details."

"I am afraid that you will have to write to her if that be your opinion. She left for Mrs. Hursts's rather reluctantly a half hour ago. It took me half a morning trying to convince her to go," Bingley said with a sense of irritation in his voice. It was rare that Bingley ever strayed from his good-humor.

"Why was she so reluctant to leave?" questioned Jane, her eyebrows furrowing.

Elizabeth and Darcy's face simultaneously contorted in disgust. It was obvious to both that Caroline refused to leave because of Darcy's presence at Netherfield.

"If you will allow me to do so, I would like keep my suspicions to myself. However, she never exactly stated why she was so reluctant on going. She just kept reiterating how much she did not want to leave Netherfield so soon. However, my other sister is very eager to see her as she has not done so for two years. Therefore, I found it necessary that Caroline paid Mrs. Hurst a visit."

"Will she be here for the wedding?" asked Elizabeth, quickly recomposing herself. Her face slightly burned for she realized that Darcy had seen her draw her look of disgust and understood her reason for it.

"Yes, Caroline will return the morning of the wedding with my sister and her husband," Charles replied wearily.

All of a sudden, Jane cried, "Lizzy, look!" as she pointed her finger towards the window, her other hand flying up to cover her mouth.

Elizabeth gave a slight jump of fright before looking to the window and gasped with delight. It was snowing.

Although it was still early November, the days had been growing increasingly colder for a while. The light and powdery snow delicately drifted to the ground, the wind gently aiding their fall to the floor. Admiring the cascading snow, Elizabeth smiled and walked closer to the window.

"Miss Elizabeth, I have heard from Jane that you are most fond of snow," said Charles, enjoyably observing the spectacle himself.

"Yes, I am. I take winter to my greatest liking. Although most find it to be cold and dull, I find it to be quite the opposite," she cheerfully replied, looking forward with anticipation to the approaching season.

"And what exactly do you find to be so enthralling in such an unbearably cold season?"

Elizabeth's eyes widened. She needed not to turn around to find the inquirer for she knew it was Darcy the moment he started to speak.

Slowly turning around, Elizabeth met Darcy's eyes and spoke.

"Everything. Although winter has not the life and vivacity of spring, the pleasantly warm and welcoming days of summer, or the amber beauty of autumn, it is winter's unique form of striking white beauty that never ceases to enchant me."

Determined not to break her gaze with Darcy, she continued on.

"Even though most people find such cold weather to be barely tolerable, I find the warmest of all feelings to reside in the coldness of the season. Little in this world compares to sitting around the warming fire with your family, the room filled with nothing but lively chatter and merry laughter. Have you ever experienced that, Mr. Darcy? Have you ever felt the coldness of winter overpowered by the warmth and love of your family and friends?"

Darcy stared back at Elizabeth, racking his memories for such an experience.

"I have not had an experience such as the one you just described since boyhood," he concluded after a brief moment.

"Then perhaps you should allow yourself to encounter these moments more, for I am sure that winter will not appear to be so unbearably cold and heartless then," Elizabeth replied with a slight grin.

"Perhaps we should all take a stroll outside. I believe that it is not too cold yet," proposed Charles, momentarily breaking the conversation.

Elizabeth smiled at Charles and nodded.

"As soon as I help Jane out of her gown," she excitedly responded.

"We shall be waiting by the entrance hall," Charles said before exiting the room with Darcy.

Eager to step outside and feel the drifting of snow, Elizabeth quickly attended to Jane and untied the strings to her dress and helped her into another one. Once Jane was ready to go, Elizabeth took her hand and impatiently dragged her down the hallway.

"Goodness, Lizzy! I certainly do not remember you being this eager to step out into snow," Jane remarked, casting her sister a sidelong glance.

Elizabeth simply smiled. Perhaps she was eager to feel the snow fall gently onto her arms, illuminating the approaching signs of her favorite season. Perhaps she was eager to step outside and feel the chilly air blow against her face, refreshing her mind and spirit. Perhaps—she was most eager to spend the rest of the morning alongside the man she had sorely missed for the past two years.

Turning around the corridor, Elizabeth's eyes briefly met Darcy's before she averted her gaze, her cheeks radiating brightly in the rosiest color.

* * *

a/n: Do you want to read about the Elizabeth's walk outside? If so, please review and tell me. I will skip the scene if people hold little interest for it. 


	5. Confession

a/n: A big thanks to everyone who has been reviewing. You have no idea how encouraging they are to read.

* * *

Elizabeth stepped out of the house, the freshly fallen snow delicately crunching beneath her feet. She let out a content sigh and cheerfully skipped a short distance away, lifting her head up to meet the cascading snow as it gently brushed against her cheeks. 

She pushed back all her thoughts and worries into the far stretches of her mind, allowing nothing to hinder her spontaneous spur of happiness. Unaware of Darcy's entranced eyes tracing her every move, Elizabeth twirled around in circles, extending her hands outwards to feel the icy snow meet her warm skin, melting almost instantaneously as her breath came in white and frosty puffs.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth with wondrous eyes. He had never seen her so liberated from society's restraints of decency, so animated, and so free to express her own mind and spirit.

The wintry snow gently fell upon Elizabeth's hair, its white color sharply contrasting against her dark brown hair. Her dress twirled about her, rippling and spiraling in a spellbinding dance, its rhythm steadily matching her spins.

Never before have Darcy's eyes behold such a scene.

"Lizzy—wait!" Jane called, hurrying over to join her sister.

Elizabeth reached for Jane's hands, and the two sisters twirled about in the snow as laughter brilliantly rang out and filled the air.

A short distance away, Charles eyed Jane with a wonder similar to Darcy's, and he gazed at his fiancée with tender and loving eyes. Only, his eyes were without the painful flicker of longing and regret.

Stopping to catch their breaths, Elizabeth let go of Jane and both stumbled dizzily as they tried to regain their balance.

Charles immediately rushed to Jane's side and supported her with his arms. In the safety of Charles's embrace, she gave him a grateful smile, her blue eyes twinkling with excitement and exhilaration.

Darcy walked over to his friend just as Elizabeth let out a surprised gasp and clumsily swayed, nearly toppling over to the ground. Deciding against all matters of propriety, Darcy immediately went to her side and wrapped his arms around her waist, steadying her disoriented balance.

"Miss Elizabeth—are you quite all right?" he asked, his voice filled with emotion and concern.

Elizabeth's eyes widened, and her heart raced. She caught her breath, too nervous to breathe. She felt her knees grow weak and threaten to melt away without warning. She felt Darcy's strong arms enfolded around her body, holding her gently and tenderly, his grasp stubbornly strong yet enticingly luring in its familiarity.

"Miss Bennet?"

Elizabeth blinked as Darcy's deep voice drew her back to her senses.

"I am all right, though I believe that I have taken one too many turns," Elizabeth breathed, the spinning winter scenery slowly coming to a stop before her.

Darcy nodded.

"I am capable of standing by myself now. Thank you, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy nodded again as he let go of Elizabeth after steadying her for the last time. His fingers lingered before reluctantly loosing contact with her waist, and his mind wanted him to draw her into his arms and never let go again.

Elizabeth rosily blushed and politely thanked him again.

Turning around to find Jane, she saw that her sister walked with Charles, both readily engrossed in a conversation. Not wanting to interrupt their chatter, she followed behind them at a respectable distance.

She soon found Darcy's presence next to her, his footsteps following the pace of her own. She kept her silence and he kept his. They walked side by side, and nothing was heard except the crunching of snow after their steady footsteps.

Both desired to ask each other questions they had long wanted answers for. Both wanted to know of each other's motives and intentions. Both wondered if there was more meaning to what they felt for each other; more significance beyond the sudden episodes of heat and passion that inevitably raised the uncontrollable waves of their emotion. Both sought for confrontation and confirmation; forgiveness and acceptance.

And yet—neither knew how.

The two years spent apart from each other resulted in the presence of a hesitant border built between them that neither dared to cross.

Attempting to ease the awkward and growing tension, Darcy spoke.

"I have seen you for two days now, but I have not properly offered you my greetings. How does you and your family fare, Miss Elizabeth?"

"I am happy to say that my family is in good health. With Lydia already married and Jane and my marriage being a short time away, Mama is the happiest I have ever seen her."

Darcy winced at the mentioning of Elizabeth's marriage. He wanted to ask her why she had chosen someone else as her companion, why she had chosen another man over him, and why she had left him without reason. Although he had intended to set things straight with Elizabeth, Darcy found that the courage he tried so hard to gather had ruthlessly evaporated in her presence. He hated himself for not having the courage to speak his mind.

Not wanting to dwell any longer on the dimming prospect of her own marriage, Elizabeth decided to return his greeting.

"How is your sister, Mr. Darcy?"

"Georgiana is gradually adjusting to our old life. She is currently resting at Pemberley, for we arrived here only the day before yesterday. I came directly to Netherfield, and she went directly home."

Elizabeth wanted to know more about Darcy's stay in Italy and figure out the reason to their separation. Was it because he no longer loved her?

Just as she began to open her mouth to speak her mind, Jane called to her.

"Lizzy! Come quickly—you have to see this!"

Stealing one last glance at Darcy, Elizabeth reluctantly walked over to her sister's side.

"What is it, Jane?" she asked, before directing her eyes to where Jane pointed.

"Shh," she whispered, "Look."

A family of rabbits hustled about the bushes, nibbling and gathering berries. Their snowy white fur blended in with the falling snow, catching and reflecting the sun's rays. Their noses pointed upwards in the air as they sniffed for food, their tiny paws scattering this way and that, sending them all in different directions.

"Are they not the most adorable creatures?" Jane squealed as she cooed over the furry animals.

Elizabeth weakly smiled and watched as the rabbits continued to eat.

"I suppose I would find them to be more pleasant if they ate only these berries and not the flowers in my garden," said Charles with a tiny grin, amused at the sight before him.

They stood in silence and watched the rabbits as the snow quickened its fall. Within moments, the wind began to pick up and the snow no longer gently brushed by Elizabeth's face for they began to sting and bite at her skin.

"We should return," advised Charles. "It would be most unfortunate for us to get caught in a blizzard."

"Yes, I agree," Jane replied, her teeth chattering from the sudden burst of wind.

Upon seeing her shiver, Charles promptly took off his coat and wrapped it tightly around Jane's body.

Jane made an attempt to reject his offer.

"Why Charles, you cannot let me have your coat. What about yourself?"

"I would hate for my bride to appear with a swollen red nose and a bloated face on our wedding day," Charles simply responded, letting out a low chuckle at the thought of such an image.

"I will be fine, Jane," he reassured her.

Elizabeth trailed behind Jane with her arms tightly wrapped around herself as she shivered against the piercing wind. The rays of the sun were quickly disappearing and the sky steadily grew darker. Elizabeth gritted her teeth as she treaded across the deepening snow.

The pleasant scenery of winter wonderland had been stripped away and was replaced by a dark and heartless sight; its coldness and iciness penetrating the previous beauty of delight and innocence.

"_Perhaps this was the winter Darcy spoke of_," Elizabeth thought to herself as she continued to struggle against the relentless wrath of heavy wind and snow.

Suddenly, she felt a heavy weight drop upon her shoulders, causing her to slightly stoop. She looked over to her shoulder and found Darcy's coat firmly settled around her.

Lifting her head, she saw Darcy stride past her in a quickened pace towards the house. Before she could call out his name, he disappeared. Elizabeth held the coat tighter around herself and huddled underneath its warmth.

Once she reached the house, Elizabeth stepped in to find a roaring fire in the sitting room. She walked to the fire and settled in front of it, warming her frostbitten face and hands with Darcy's coat still draped around her. Beside her, Jane eyed Darcy's coat and emitted a quiet smile.

"Jane and Miss Elizabeth—you two must remain here until the snow eases. I will not have you returning home in such weather. The weather is far too risky for even a carriage to withhold. I already have rooms prepared for you," Charles warmly said, extending his hospitality.

"Thank you Charles, that would be wonderful," replied Jane as she finished warming her hands in front of the fire.

"I can show you to your rooms now if you wish," Charles continued, helping Jane up from the chair.

"I am in no hurry to go to my room. For the moment, I am content in sitting before the fire. Thank you for your kind offer and generous hospitality," Elizabeth politely answered.

Charles nodded in understanding and led Jane out of the room.

Elizabeth stared at the fire, watching its flames dance and flicker before her eyes. She closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the fire spread throughout her body, warming her from head to toe.

Opening her eyes, Elizabeth turned her head to the door and saw Darcy standing in the archway.

He gave her a shy smile and slowly approached her.

"Was it warm enough for you?" he asked, stopping before Elizabeth and eyeing his coat.

"Oh yes—thank you very much, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth replied as she took off the coat and handed it to Darcy.

Darcy took the coat from Elizabeth and drew another smile. He turned to leave the room, but upon reaching the doorway, he abruptly stopped and turned.

His mouth slowly crept open, and he hesitated for a brief moment before speaking.

"Miss Elizabeth. Forgive me for not having the courage to speak to you earlier. Although I still find myself to have little nerve in conversing with you, I wish to let my feelings be known to you—each and every one of my sentiments."

Elizabeth continued to stare at Darcy, her heart beating ferociously within her chest as Darcy walked to her side and drew a chair alongside her.

Glancing at her, Darcy briefly closed his eyes and sighed. After several hesitant moments, he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I dearly admire and love you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet. More than you will ever know."


	6. Unexplained Misunderstandings

Elizabeth's face paled and she continued to stare at Darcy at disbelief. Her mind drew a blank and her mouth fell slightly agape. Unable to compose herself enough to offer a reply, she remained frozen in her chair.

Darcy looked at Elizabeth with uncertainty; eager yet nervous to receive her response. Several minutes went by until Elizabeth finally spoke.

"Mr. Darcy—I—forgive me—I am at loss for words. I now find myself on the rare occasion of finding nothing suitable to justify and express my own feelings and sentiments." Elizabeth found herself stuttering as she spoke, her voice trembling and unsteady.

"Miss Elizabeth—" Darcy stopped shortly and drew a deep breath before continuing, "Forgive me for asking so blatantly—but I must know. Are your sentiments toward me the same as they were two years past?"

"I—" Elizabeth stammered, shocked by Darcy's straightforwardness.

"Miss Elizabeth, do you still love me?"

Elizabeth took a deep breath and withdrew her glance. She turned and focused her eyes to the fire, unsure of what to say. Although she did not doubt the fact that she loved Darcy, she doubted that such a statement would hardly help her current situation. She was to be married, and a truthful response from her would be of utmost impropriety.

Although her heart longed for her to profess her true sentiments to him, the pain of his departure inevitably returned, stinging and biting at her memories. She recalled all the days and nights she had spent waiting for him; all the weeks and months she fervently prayed for his return. She remembered her desperate hope, her excruciating wait, and her utter disappointment.

His return revived the old wound, mercilessly splitting it open as it throbbed and pained Elizabeth's heart more than ever before. Although she hated herself for it, Elizabeth's vain attempt to shield pride and dignity did not allow her to pass by the pain Darcy had inflicted upon her. Determined to make Darcy understand all he had made her suffer, she spoke with a hardened voice.

"Your previous actions have made it very difficult for me to discern between my feelings for you. Whether my sentiments are of well-harbored resentment or wounded betrayal I have yet to qualify."

A flicker of confusion passed on Darcy's face. His eyebrows deeply furrowed and he intently looked at Elizabeth, unsure of what she spoke of.

"Miss Bennet, please explain the resentment and feeling of betrayal I have so unconsciously caused," answered Darcy, shifting uneasily in his seat as his stomach plunged in fear that the conversation had taken a turn for the worse.

"Unconsciously caused? Sir, I hold little respect to the guilty that play innocent," Elizabeth hatefully spat back as she allowed her feelings of pain and hurt to transform into angry gusts of fury.

Darcy's face paled and he stared at Elizabeth in disbelief.

How was he the guilty one? She was the one who left him for another man; the one who was now engaged to be married. Was he with someone else? No—he waited for her—he waited all these years for her to be his. She was the one who left him; the guilty one—not he. What had he ever done to her?

Darcy felt his own anger rise up and fought hard to contain himself. His knuckles tightly gripped the arms of the chair and soon turned frigid and white. He turned his face from Elizabeth and drew deep breaths, trying to recompose himself. Futile in his attempt to set aside his anger, he swallowed and glared at Elizabeth.

"I am the guilty one? And may I ask with what crime I am thus accused of?" hissed Darcy, his voice cold and indignant.

Elizabeth threw Darcy a disgusted look. Although her look was sharp and resentful, Darcy caught an unmistakable flash of pain and hurt fleetingly flicker within the pupils of her chestnut colored eyes.

After a long silence, Elizabeth drew hers eyes to Darcy and spoke with a wounded yet steady voice.

"You left me."

Elizabeth's three short and concise words of brevity rang loudly in Darcy's ears. His eyes widened as his mouth fell open in disbelief at the accusation she held against him. Unable to contain his frustration any longer, Darcy allowed it to take hold of him.

Without another thought, he automatically retorted, "Oh—is that what it is? I left you? I am the one engaged to be married?" His voice was filled with spiteful sarcasm as he stood up from the chair and towered over Elizabeth, his fists tightly clenched.

"You know perfectly well what I speak of, Mr. Darcy. I am not one to be trifled with," Elizabeth said, her entire body trembling in anger.

Darcy accused her of leaving him? It was he who left without a word, a trace, or a reason. And now it was all her fault for becoming engaged. Was she supposed to hopelessly wait for him forever? Did he expect her to do such a thing?

Brushing her thoughts aside, she stared coldly at Darcy and continued.

"And do you wish to know why I left you, Mr. Darcy?" she heatedly inquired, standing up to look Darcy squarely in the face.

"Your own demise lies in your own inability to interpret or consider the feelings and sentiments of others. At least Matthew informs me of his departures before he takes leave. At least my fiancé has the courtesy to write and communicate with me. At least my betrothed conveys his love for me by doing the decency of showing that he actually cares."

"I—I am afraid that you do not fully comprehend me, Miss Bennet. Please allow me to explain myself," responded Darcy, clearly baffled as to why Elizabeth acted so indifferently to his letters if she had longed for correspondence.

"I have heard enough, Mr. Darcy. If you will excuse me, I will now take my leave."

And with that, Elizabeth Bennet strode out the door and stormed up the stairs to her room.

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a/n: i know it's a short chapter, but i did not intend for it to be a long scene. Reviews greatly appreciated! 


	7. An Embarrassing Mistake

On the way to her room, Elizabeth asked a maid to inform Charles of her pardoned absence for lunch. She told the maid that she was not feeling very well and preferred to be left in privacy.

Finally reaching her room, Elizabeth flung open the door of her chamber and slammed it shut. She glanced to the window towards the far end of the room. A snowstorm was howling uncontrollably and the outside scenery was a whirl of misty white. Her heart fell. She would be forced to reside under the same roof with Darcy until the storm withdrew.

She eyed the big and welcoming bed in the middle of the room and flung herself onto it. She wearily closed her eyes and forced herself to brush away her cluttered thoughts to be dealt with later. Exhausted by all that had happened in the morning, she wearily closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

* * *

Downstairs in the dining parlor, Jane, Darcy, and Charles sat down to lunch. The three of them waited at the table until a young maid walked into the room. 

"Miss Bennet asked me to inform you that she will not be joining you for lunch today. She says she is not feeling well."

"Lizzy is not feeling well? Maybe she caught a cold from this horrid weather. Perhaps I should go up and check on her," Jane said, concerned for her sister's well-being.

"Miss Elizabeth also asked that she be left alone in privacy," the maid continued, curtseying after the deliverance of her message.

Jane frowned at her sister's strange and unexpected behavior. Although Elizabeth often asked to be left alone, she had never done so when she was ill. Suspecting that Elizabeth's illness was a mere excuse, Jane told herself to check up on Elizabeth if she did not turn up for afternoon tea.

Throughout the meal, Darcy seemed reticent and withdrawn, answering monosyllabically and rarely contributing to the conversation. Even though Darcy's character never made him a sociable person, he always seemed to talk more while in the presence of his closest friend.

After the meal, Darcy politely excused himself and left Charles alone with Jane. As he walked around corridor, he heard Jane's laughter coincide with Charles's good natured chuckled. The bride and groom were perfect for each other and Darcy wondered if he would ever be able to share the same bond with his own betrothed.

With Elizabeth getting married, Darcy hardly knew the outcome of his own future. Surely Lady Catherine would seize the chance to thrust Ann into his unwilling arms. However, Darcy knew that even if he chose to reject Ann and withstand another berating string of assaults from his aunt, Caroline Bingley would be his only other option. Disheartened by his gloomy future, Darcy trudged slowly to his room. He absentmindedly reached for the handle and turned. When the door quietly swung open and revealed the room, Darcy's mouth fell.

Upon his bed was Elizabeth, sprawled out across the bed, sleeping peacefully. What was she doing in his room? Darcy's heart beat faster. Was she not the one who was mad at him and attempted to keep her distance? Darcy scratched his head. Then why, of all places, was she in his room? Darcy's heart raced.

What should he do now? Wake her up? Wait for her to awake? Leave? Finding himself in a most awkward situation, Darcy stuck his head into the hallway and glanced around. It was empty, save a maid dusting the statue of Charles's head around the corner.

The proper and gentlemanly asset called in the back of his mind to withdraw from the room. To have a man watching an already betrothed woman sleeping was of utmost impropriety. However, the inner Darcy argued and urged him to stay in the room and watch his beloved sleep. Enchanted by Elizabeth's peaceful slumber, Darcy watched as her chest gently rose and fell, her breathing calm and relaxed.

Drawn by the beautifully outlined silhouette of Elizabeth's body upon the bed, Darcy fought back the overpowering urge to walk closer to her. Unable to suppress his temptation any longer, he quietly approached Elizabeth. Walking as quietly as he could, he arrived at his destination, Elizabeth's face only a short distance away.

Captivated, he studied her serene face, entranced by the brown curls that gracefully hung about her face. She held a slight smile in her sleep, and Darcy wondered what she dreamt of. In her sleep, Elizabeth looked innocent and carefree, without a line of worry crossing her face.

Mesmerized, Darcy gingerly lowered his face to level hers. He felt warm breaths escape from Elizabeth as his own drew gentle ripples across her curls. Thinking of the only thing he could do, Darcy slowly closed his eyes and tenderly brushed his lips across Elizabeth's forehead.

When he opened his eyes, he found Elizabeth's hazel eyes stare in horror right back at him.

Darcy's shocked eyes widened and he sharply stumbled backwards, bumping into the bedside table and knocking off a couple of candles. He reached for the table and regained his balance, his heart pulsating vigorously within his chest.

"Miss Elizabeth—I—forgive me—I did not mean to—" Darcy embarrassedly stammered, his face giving a look of intense concentration as he searched for the proper words to justify his actions.

Elizabeth sat up on the bed, still regaining her senses. She held a look of pure shock and bewilderment, confused as to why she awoke with a man standing no more than an inch away from her. She had always been a light sleeper, and when Darcy's lips touched her forehead, Elizabeth automatically awakened.

Turning bright red, she frowned in confusion until she grasped her train of thought. She remembered that she had walked out on Darcy earlier that day. She recalled how furious she was towards him, how hurt she was from him. Staring at Darcy, she asked the only question she could.

"Mr. Darcy, I demand to know why you are in my room without my permission or conscious acknowledgement."

"I—what—your room? This most certainly is not your room."

"Yes it is—why else would I be here? Whose room could it possibly be?"

"This would be my room," Darcy replied, pointing to his coats hanging in the closet.

Elizabeth froze. She turned back her memories and forced herself to think. She was outside dancing in the snow, then she came in from the snowstorm, warmed herself by the fire, Charles offered to show her to her room, and—

Charles never did show her to her room.

Elizabeth's cheeks burned and she hurriedly leapt off of the bed. She bowed her head, too ashamed to speak.

"Mr. Darcy—I am so sorry for my misconception to have resulted in any of your inconvenience. I really am," said Elizabeth, extremely flustered. "I will leave you now."

As she turned to leave, she felt Darcy grab her hand. Turning around, she saw Darcy look straight into her eyes.

"Miss Elizabeth—I apologize for my earlier outburst. You must listen to me explain all that you have misunderstood."

"Misunderstood?" Elizabeth scathingly shot back, shaking her head. She eased off Darcy's grasp and turned her head.

"There is nothing to explain. I understand everything you have to say or feel. Please—save your explanation and the pain it will cause both of us," Elizabeth softly said.

"No—Miss Elizabeth—you do not—" Darcy attempted, his eyes refusing to leave Elizabeth's figure.

It was too late for Elizabeth had already swiftly walked to the door and exited the room. She asked the maids for directions to her own room and found it a couple rooms away from Darcy's. Opening the door, she saw Jane sitting on her bed, eyeing her with a familiar and understanding gaze.

"Come Lizzy, we need to talk."

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a/n: reviews more than welcomed! 


	8. Elizabeth's Untold Story

Elizabeth carefully examined her sister's face. Jane patted the spot on the bed next to her, signaling for Elizabeth to sit. Elizabeth drew a deep breath and walked to her sister, settling herself by Jane's side.

"Lizzy, are you quite all right? I was worried about you when you did not turn up for lunch. Did you eat?"

"I am feeling a bit ill and have no desire to eat."

Jane eyed her sister suspiciously and decided to try her luck pry a little more into Elizabeth's thoughts. She knew that something was amiss and that Elizabeth suffered more than her self acclaimed illness.

"What ails you, dear sister? A headache, cough, fever? Change of heart?"

"I beg your pardon, Jane. But what do you mean by change of heart?" Elizabeth asked, trying to cover the fact that she knew exactly what Jane meant.

"I will not pry into your matters if you do not wish me to do so, Lizzy. However, I am here for you if you need me," said Jane, giving her sister a reassuring hug.

Elizabeth bit her lip. The bond she shared with Jane was a strong one, and she knew of hardly anyone else who shared such a strong, sisterly bond. Even Lydia and Kitty did not have the special connection Elizabeth and Jane shared. Jane was her confider, the one who would always ready to listen, ready to lend her wisdom and give her advice. The only thing Elizabeth ever kept from Jane was her true feelings to Darcy's departure—feelings she tried hard to mask and hide.

Elizabeth leaned her head onto Jane's petite shoulder and heavily sighed. She found herself wanting to tell her sister of all of her emotions and sentiments. It was too big a burden to carry by herself; a weight cast upon her that was too heavy to bear.

Still, Elizabeth was afraid of what Jane would say. To have an engaged woman spew out her feelings for another man greatly qualified indecency. However, Elizabeth knew that Jane suspected matters to be beyond her pretension of being ill. Desperately in need of guidance, Elizabeth decided to confess her feelings.

"Jane—I—Mr. Darcy—I—" stammered Elizabeth, her face flushed with embarrassment and shame. Elizabeth's face contorted and she winced as she found herself incapable of expressing her feelings. She sat next to her sister and drew her eyes to the floor, hopelessly shaking her head from side to side, attempting to continue onwards.

Jane waited patiently for her sister to recover. She did not want to interrupt for she wanted to hear Elizabeth speak of her own feelings. Even though she suspected of her sister's lingering affections toward Darcy, Jane found herself anxious to know the truth to Elizabeth's sentiments. Undeniably, Mr. Darcy's return had triggered something in her sister's stream of emotions.

"I feel like such a fool, Jane. A hopeless fool trapped in her own follies," Elizabeth finally spoke after a few minutes of silence. "I am already betrothed and yet I find myself questioning the possibility of life with another man. I find myself drawn towards the man who left me and abandoned me without reason. In all of my better judgment and sensibility, I cannot prevent my flow of feelings toward him. And now I question whether or not I can ever return my true feelings to Matthew as I can to Mr. Darcy."

Elizabeth let out a small sigh of relief after she expelled what she had fought with great effort to hide. Jane's suspicions have been confirmed, but though she wanted to ease her sister's predicament, she felt at loss for her inability to come up with a solution. Never before had she ever encountered such a situation—or to the least, heard of one.

To Jane's relief, Elizabeth continued to speak, giving her time to think.

"I honestly do not know why I consented to seeing Matthew and agreed to marry him although I heavily suspect that I longed to forget the pain of Mr. Darcy's departure and sought for ways to compensate the loss I felt. I told myself that I could not dwell upon my pain forever; that the time had come to pass the wound by. I opened my life to Matthew and allowed him into it. Although I tried with great efforts to set Matthew's comparisons with Mr. Darcy aside, I could not help but feel how short he fell when compared to Mr. Darcy."

Jane eyed her sister with great sympathy. Elizabeth seemed so little, so vulnerable, and so lost. She put her arms around Elizabeth again and waited for her to continue.

"I realized that I could not wait for Mr. Darcy forever and doubted the possibility of him to ever wait for me. For two years, no letter or word from him ever passed by. I cannot describe the sorrow and disappointment I felt when Papa returned everyday with a stack of letters—the pile I anxiously sifted through day after day without any success."

Elizabeth bit her lip and trembled, her voice swaying with overwhelming emotions as she hardened her face and fought back her tears. She took a moment to recompose herself before going on.

"Suddenly, without warning, Mr. Darcy returns, reviving all the emotions I tried so hard to keep away. Emotions surged from me faster than I could hold them down; they took hold of me and I struggled hopelessly to control them. Before I am given the time to sort out my own sentiments, Mr. Darcy confesses to me that he still loves me. I do not why he chose to tell me so and I am thoroughly perplexed as to why he never corresponded with me if his proclaimed sentiments are true."

Anger and frustration now rose from Elizabeth as her feelings began to overflow once more. Her brows furrowed and she clenched her fists, her voice growing louder and rougher.

"He then goes on to accuse me for leaving and misunderstanding him. What kind of accusation is that? I did nothing to warrant or deserved the blame he issued upon me. I left him? Does he take himself to be some sort of righteous saint? That he can just disappear mysteriously for two years, magically reappear again, and expect that I throw myself into his arms as if nothing ever happened? What does he take me for?"

The two sisters sat in silence for a few moments. Elizabeth's cheeks flushed red with anger while Jane sat motionless, trying to take in all that Elizabeth had said. Although she had suspected for something to be amiss, she did not expect that it was as great as the problem presented before her.

Rubbing her forehead wearily, she asked, "Lizzy, trust me. I have every desire to ease your pain and solve your problem. But truth be told, I have never encountered a dilemma such as this. I know you that you need guidance, and I apologize for my own inability to offer you one. The last thing I want to do is mislead you. I cannot afford give you wrong advice at the expense of your own future and happiness."

Elizabeth nodded. She understood that Jane truly had no advice to offer her at the moment.

"I understand, Jane. I do not blame you. You already have done your most important duty of patiently listening to me speak of all my feelings, and I am thankful for that. I cannot ask for more in a sister," Elizabeth said, embracing Jane.

Jane heaved a heavy sigh. "You are too kind, Lizzy. But what do you suppose you will do now?"

"I do not know—I do not recall ever being so confused before. However, there is one thing that I do know. I cannot forsake or leave Matthew. I cannot harm the only innocent one in this matter. I cannot inflict upon Matthew the pain of abandonment—the pain I know so well. I will clean up this mess as soon as I come up with a decent way of doing so. Until then, I have no wish to see Mr. Darcy and fervently pray that the snowstorm will abide so that I can return home soon," Elizabeth finished, determined to keep her distance from Darcy.

After a few more moments, Elizabeth added, "You should go and find Mr. Bingley now. He must be waiting for you. Please send my apologies to Mr. Bingley for me being unable to keep company for the rest of the day."

"I will tell him that. Charles will understand. You need some rest," Jane warmly said, giving her sister a reassuring smile. "It will all work out in the end—somehow. You can trust me on that." After giving her sister an encouraging embrace, she retired from the room.

Elizabeth remained on her bed and stared outside the window, lost in thoughts. Although she told Jane of Darcy's love for her, she chose to leave out the details of Darcy kissing her upon her forehead. Such a detail and memory would be hers to keep—hers to secretly enjoy and cherish.

When the dim rays of the sun finally disappeared from the icy world outside, Elizabeth blew out her candles and succumbed to sleep.

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a/n: Did you like this chapter? I hope it didn't contain too much summary of what had already happened. I aimed for it to convey Lizzy's explanation and feelings. Please review! 


	9. A Path to Take

Elizabeth kept mostly to herself the next day, rarely allowing herself to be without the company of her sister. The last person she wanted to see was Darcy; the last thing she needed was more chaos. Although she took her meal with Darcy along with everyone else, she rarely spoke lest she was addressed to by Charles or Jane. Darcy rarely allowed himself to join in conversations, but when he addressed his greeting to Elizabeth, she greatly discouraged him with monosyllabic answers.

The little conversation they held during breakfast revolved around Jane's wedding that was to take place in two days. Overnight, the storm had subsided and eased into a light snowfall, and Elizabeth and Jane planned on returning home right after breakfast. There were still slight matters that needed to be attended to at home before the wedding. After breakfast, Charles led Jane and Elizabeth to the front door, Darcy hesitatingly trailing in the back.

"Will you be here tomorrow, Jane?" Charles asked, lifting his arm to help Jane into the carriage.

"Yes, of course. I will return tomorrow morning to go over the final preparations and plans of the wedding with you," Jane cheerfully replied, smiling down at her fiancé.

"Mr. Bingley, thank you so much for your hospitality. It has been most kind of you to allow us to spend the night here," Elizabeth said, politely and gracefully curtseying to Charles.

"It has been my greatest pleasure and honor. You and your sister are most welcomed here," he replied as Elizabeth climbed into the carriage after her sister.

Elizabeth turned to steal a quick glance at Darcy. His expression was inconceivable. A sense of indifference mixed with sadness was upon his face—whether he felt relieved or pained at her leave she could not tell. He caught her eyes and his face hardened as he slightly nodded to her in acknowledgement. Elizabeth promptly nodded back before turning to wave goodbye to Charles.

The carriage sped away and Elizabeth looked at the rolling country scenery. The two sisters sat in a comfortable silence, both admiring the view unraveling before their eyes. Snow covered the earth and trees, glistening in the shimmering sunlight as birds chirped happily in their nests. A subtle wind blew, gently ruffling the ribbons on Elizabeth's bonnet. Before long, the carriage arrived in Hertfordshire and the Bennet estate came quickly into view.

As the carriage came into a screeching stop, the front door burst open as all the Bennets hurried outside to greet Jane and Elizabeth. Among them was Lydia, who had returned to attend Jane's wedding. In her arms, she held a squalling infant wrapped in a bundle of blankets.

"Lydia, you are back!" Jane said surprisingly, walking over to her sister as she gazed down at her nephew. "And with little Freddie," she cheerfully announced, taking her nephew from Lydia's arms.

Jane's cooing over the baby was soon interrupted by her mother's nerve-racking exclamation that stopped everyone short from their conversations.

"Jane—dear—thank goodness the snow stopped and you were able to come home—oh my poor nerves; how I thought the snowstorm might delay the wedding! Come, we have so much to do, and so little time," Mrs. Bennet unceremoniously declared, taking the baby out of Jane's arms and returning him to his mother. Immediately, she grabbed Jane by her wrist and hastily ushered her into the house.

Shortly afterwards, Mary and Kitty followed Mrs. Bennet into the house. Elizabeth was left alone with Lydia, who now stood by the steps, attempting to soothe the disgruntled infant. She walked over to Lydia and peered down at the baby. He was five months old now and had doubled in size since she last saw him. Ever since Frederic's birth, Lydia had been submerged in pride that she given birth to her family's first grandchild. Her ability to conceive and bear an heir with her first attempt brought her much attention and recognition. Mrs. Bennet was beyond relief and happiness that Lydia had given birth to an heir, never missing the chance to shower her favorite daughter with continuous praise as she fussed over her beloved grandson.

Although Elizabeth and Jane had greatly hoped that motherhood would soften Lydia's character, they soon found it to have quite an opposite effect. Lydia's pride soon took over her usual flightiness and she now became obnoxiously arrogant, never missing the opportunity to announce the existence of her son to the world. However, despite Elizabeth's disapproval of Lydia's behavior, she refused to let herself pass her disliking of Lydia onto her son. She doted on her nephew and took care of him whenever she could.

When Frederic was born, it was she who went over to Lydia's house and stayed an intolerably miserable month for the sake of caring for the baby. Although she knew it to be inevitable, Elizabeth still hoped that Lydia and Wickham's shallow characters would not be passed onto their son. She vowed to never allow of it if situations ever came under her area of influence.

Elizabeth reached over and gently took Frederic from his mother's arms.

"Oh, that snowstorm last night was simply horrible. My poor George and I had to stop by a shamefully old inn to spend the night. What dreadful weather! Little Freddie could have caught a cold!" Lydia exclaimed, putting her hand up to her forehead in an attempt to gain pity.

"I am sorry to hear that. Jane and I were forced to spend the night at Mr. Bingley's because of the storm," Elizabeth replied with brevity, determined not to say what Lydia wanted to hear.

Ignoring Elizabeth's statement, Lydia continued on. "Little Freddie was shivering so last night. I tried my hardest to keep him warm. Heaven knows how much I would blame myself if anything ever happened to my Freddie. But everything's all right now, I think. Isn't he looking awfully fine and handsome this morning? I am proud to say that he takes a lot after his father," she squealed, brushing her son's cheeks with her hands.

"Oh yes, Freddie has always been very handsome," said Elizabeth, choosing to neglect Lydia's latter statement. She had no intentions for complimenting the good looks of her husband, for she had learned long ago that his handsome face and charm contributed little to his weak character. The thought of Wickham brought long Darcy, and Elizabeth blinked and forced herself to keep him out of her mind.

Elizabeth walked into the house with Lydia, bouncing Frederic in her arms. His eyes joyously beamed and he let out a loud giggle. Elizabeth smiled and tickled her nephew. Frederic burst into laughter, wiggling in an effort to writhe out of his aunt's grasp. Elizabeth laughed with Frederic, wishing that her life was as simple and innocent as his. When she looked up, she saw her father standing in the hallway. She placed a kiss upon Frederic's cheeks before handing him over to Kitty.

"Papa!" she cried as she ran over to her father, throwing her arms around him.

"Lizzy—my dear child—how have you been? I hope the cold weather has not affected your health," he lovingly said as he gazed at his daughter, scrutinizing her for any sign a cold.

"I am well, Papa. However, you must be cautious of your own health too. I fear you are wearing too few layers of clothing for weather such as this," Elizabeth replied, surveying her father of his thin attire.

"I will be fine, my dear. Now run along, for I daresay that Jane is in dire need of your company," he said, leading Elizabeth down the hall. "She is in the drawing room."

Elizabeth gave her father another quick embrace and thanked him before walking towards the drawing room. She quickly turned in the small corridor and found her path blocked by another. After bumping into the person, she looked up to find George Wickham looking squarely at her.

"My apologies, Mr. Wickham," she hastily spoke, shifting uneasily in her stance. Ever since Wickham's close elopement with Lydia, Elizabeth found it hard to calmly compose herself in front of him.

"Dear Lizzy, how many times must I insist that you call me George? We are family now, are we not?" he asked gently, shooting a look Elizabeth of feigned sincerity.

"Family, we undeniably are—close friends we certainly are not. And while I do not feel enough relations to call you by your first name, I kindly ask that you do the same for me. My name is Elizabeth Bennet, Sir."

"Your point speaks well for itself, Miss Elizabeth. However, I do believe our relations to be enough so that I may call you by your first name. But no matter, I shall do as you wish until we are both acquiesced to address each other like we should. Until then, Miss Bennet, do take my humble advice of walking with your eyes in order to avoid further collisions."

He curtly bowed and walked away, Elizabeth glaring at him behind his back. How dare he address her directly by her first name? It was something that even Darcy did not dare to do. Appalled by Wickham's lack of manners and ill-breeding, Elizabeth continued onwards toward her destination. When she stepped inside, she found Jane sitting in a chair with a pure look of mortification upon her face.

"Jane, what is of the matter? Your expression makes you look like you just swallowed a bitter melon," Elizabeth teased, standing afore her sister.

Jane, however, did not lighten up. When she finally decided to speak, her voice low and face sour.

"Mama just ever so graciously informed me of my duties on wedding night. Pray, Lizzy, it sounds most absurd. Though I have heard of such before, Mama made it sound like utmost agony. She made it sound as if my entire existence during marriage is to satisfy the—needs—of my husband."

Elizabeth tried with all her efforts to suppress a laugh as her mind relayed an exaggerated image of her mother loudly and unconventionally educated Jane of her marital duty. How like Mama's character for her to do so, she thought.

"Jane, do not dwell on it. You know how Mama is. She has the talent of making things sound far worse than they really are," Elizabeth said, taking her sister's hands into her own.

"I will not try to, though the image she offered me is particularly disconcerting."

"Oh come on Jane, how bad can it possibly be? It has to be pleasurable enough for the world to be thus over populated."

Jane looked at Elizabeth with uncertainty. The wedding was only two days away, and it would be a ceremony that will entwine her life with Charles's—a connection and choice she can neither sever nor regret. She was nervous to enter a new life, and although she was certain that her life with Charles would make a fair husband, she was anxious to explore the unknown realms in life.

With a heavy sigh, she replied, "I will promise to dwell on it no longer if you promise not to let Mr. Darcy weigh down your heart."

"You have no idea how well that would suit me. Yet ironically, you also have no idea how impossible it is for me to not think of him. He occupies every inch and scope of my mind, refusing to leave after I have repeatedly tried to chase him out of my thoughts."

"You are in love, Lizzy. In love with one you cannot be with. Fate has your lives intertwined, but fate has not yet show its desire for your souls to be entwined. And the only way you can find out, Lizzy, is by living it. Live life to where it takes you. It may be for you to settle with Matthew; it may be for you to settle with another. But always remember, it is never too late. You shall never know lest you courageously walk the path life and fate have to offer."

Jane gazed at Elizabeth with sympathetic eyes, saddened by her sister's dilemma. Here she was, ready to be married, while her beloved sister stood in front of her with the happiness of her future unsecured.

"It is a hard path to walk, Jane. A road I want to excuse myself from though knowing that I will forever regret the walk if I never took the chance to take it."

"There must be some way of easing the hardships of your road; some way to soften and soothe its ridges and bumps. Perhaps, you should talk to Mr. Darcy and set things straight with him. You have questions that must be answered and delaying them would be of no good."

"I am not going to talk with a man who left me for another woman. I would much rather be deprived of the answers than attain answers that will cause me further pain. Mr. Darcy's love life is none of my business. Whether or not he loves Caroline Bingley is not what I should be concerned with," Elizabeth abruptly answered, her temper rising at the thought of Caroline Bingley's stay with Darcy in Italy.

"Caroline Bingley? Elizabeth, clearly Mr. Darcy is in love with you—he even said so himself. What do you mean of Charles's sister? Although it is evident that she takes every opportunity to throw herself at him, it does not mean he returns his affections," Jane replied, eyes widened in confusion at Elizabeth's speculation.

"He allowed himself to live with another woman for two years under the same roof in another country. He allowed himself to converse with another woman while neglecting the other who needed him more than anyone else in the world. Not a single letter, Jane. Not a single word in two years. And when I bring this up, he tells me I misunderstand him. Jane, I refuse to talk to such a man. A man so concentrated in his own well being that his other half has to suffer because of his selfish and inconsiderate character." Elizabeth stopped to catch her breath as she fought to keep her anger down.

"I understand, although I honestly do think that cleared up answers will truly lighten your burden," Jane calmly said. Elizabeth envied her sister's ability to maintain a calm disposition despite being surrounded with frustrating situations.

"I will not talk to him until I am ready, Jane. The time will come, but not until I am ready."

"I wish you the best of luck, dear sister. But I advise you to hurry—the time you ask for might not be enough. Do not forget, Matthew is soon to return," Jane responded as she gave her sister an encouraging pat. She stood up and retired from the room to go over her wedding guest list one last time.

Elizabeth took her sister's seat and buried her head in her hands. She knew that Jane was right. There was no time. Come three days, and Matthew would return. Matthew—she had almost forgotten him. Although he had written her a few letters and she replied readily to them all, Elizabeth as if she was writing to a mere friend. She felt little emotion towards him and questioned why she allowed herself to agree upon marriage. How she wanted to hide from the world and leave her worries behind. How she wanted to withdraw from her engagement and submit herself to Darcy.

FInally, she decided to reveal her emotions to Darcy after the wedding. Elizabeth had no intention of ruining the good spirits of a celebratory event. However, she knew that come time after the wedding, she will demand that her questions be answered and ensure the reiteration of her sentiments. This time, to be understood.

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a/n: please review! the more reviews, the faster i update. 


	10. The Shocking Discovery

The next morning, an anxious and tense atmosphere hung around Netherfield as its master became a nervous wreck. Charles Bingley, a man of a fair and well tempered disposition found himself at the mercy of his nerves. He paced to and fro in his study room, hands clasped tightly behind his back. He bit his lip as reality and epiphany dawned upon him. Today would be the last day of his bachelorhood. Tomorrow would be the start of the rest of his life as a married man.

"Pacing back and forth is going to neither speed up your anticipation nor spare you of it, Charles," observed Darcy, interrupting his friend's thoughts.

Charles stopped and turned to look at Darcy, the expression upon his face hopeless in its unease and apprehension.

"Fitzwilliam, this is too much for me. Never before have I thought marriage to spell out such fretfulness. I am more than excited and blessed to take Jane as my wife, but I—" Charles stopped mid-sentence, shook his head, and sighed.

"You will do fine tomorrow at the ceremony, Charles, if that is what worries you. I am more than assured that you will be the fairest husband any young woman can wish for. Your good nature and thoughtfulness is a trait that even I cannot deny to envy," Darcy encouraged earnestly, wishing that he was half as considerate as Charles. Perhaps then, Elizabeth would have been his.

Charles smiled and thanked his friend as half of his worry lines disappeared off of his forehead. A knock at the door broke the conversation and a maid stepped into the room a few moments later.

"Master Bingley your fiancé has arrived," she announced and curtseyed.

Charles thanked the maid and began to make his way toward the entrance hall. Darcy followed closely behind and when he caught sight of Jane, his heart fell.

Elizabeth was not with her. Elizabeth was always with her. Charles had told him that. Every time Jane came, Elizabeth had been her constant companion. However, Jane stood alone by the doorway today, her sister nowhere to be seen.

"Where is your sister?" Charles asked, closing the door behind Jane.

"She is helping Mama back at home with guest arrangements while taking care of little Freddie. Lydia and her husband have gone into town today for some business to settle," Jane answered with a darkened look. She had suspected that Lydia and Wickham went in town to settle their pile of debts.

"Will Miss Elizabeth be joining us at all today?" Darcy found himself asking, allowing himself to raise his hopes for a split second.

"No, I am afraid not, Mr. Darcy," Jane answered with a quick gaze at Darcy.

Darcy's face fell as his falsely risen hopes collapsed before him. Aware that Charles and Jane witnessed his reaction, he quickly recomposed himself.

"Good morning, Miss Bennet. I will be my chamber if any help is needed, Charles." And with a small bow, he retired to his room.

Was she avoiding him now? How was he ever going to explain himself if she refused to give him the chance to do so? Darcy felt uneasy and he now realized how much comfort Elizabeth's presence had given him. Perturbed, he continued his friend's prior action and began to pace the room.

* * *

Jane sat by the window, peering outside at the glistening snow. The trees were still coated heavily with snow that had fallen the night before. Charles had retired to his study room to respond to the pile of congratulatory letters he had received. Waiting for his return, Jane snuggled up in the chair and allowed herself to become immersed in thought. 

A harsh rapping at the door broke her thoughts, and Jane's head snapped up. Standing timidly by the doorway was Darcy, looking as shy as she had ever seen him. To a certain degree, he even appeared a bit flustered and embarrassed.

"Mr. Darcy, please do come in," Jane said, unsure of his intentions.

"Thank you, Miss Jane," he huskily replied, awkwardly shuffling over to a nearby armchair and settling into it.

Jane had never been alone with Darcy as his cold appearance and towering height often intimidated her. The two sat in a discomfited silence with Jane wondering why Darcy had approached her and Darcy uncertain with how his intentions should be presented. Finally, Jane decided to question him.

"Did you need to inform me of something, Mr. Darcy?"

"No—err—yes—err." The words clumsily rolled off of Darcy's tongue and Jane looked at him expectantly.

Jane patiently waited for Darcy to gather his thoughts and speak again. Darcy bit his lip and struggled to recompile his feelings. He knew not where to begin.

"Elizabeth," he breathed, blushing heavily. He cast his eyes away from Jane and looked down, embarrassed at his outburst of her name.

"My sister?" Jane immediately responded. So that was why Darcy approached her so desperately. It had to do with Elizabeth.

"Yes, your sister. I believe that you and her share little secrets and tell each other everything in your closeness. Tell me, Miss Bennet—is she angry with me?" Darcy asked with a pathetic look of anticipation on his face. As the question came out of Darcy's mouth, he was unable to stop it. When it fully came out, Darcy winced. What a stupid and pointless question for him to ask. Obviously Elizabeth was far from being pleased with him.

Jane raised her eyebrows and suppressed a snort. After all that he had done and said to Elizabeth, he now questioned whether or not Elizabeth was angry with him? Was he truly that clueless towards the feelings of others? Taken aback by Darcy's insensitivity, her face drew a blank.

"Yes," Jane tersely replied, slightly narrowing her eyes. "Very much so," she added.

"I do not blame her for being angry although I do have to question why," Darcy responded. Although Jane's face rarely showed disapproval, he began to see annoyance grow upon her face. Darcy feared that the conversation had taken a turn for the worse.

Jane's eyes widened further. He now questioned her _why_ Elizabeth was so angry at him? Darcy's determined and strong voice made it sound like he had done nothing wrong to cause anger. _"Elizabeth was right," _Jane thought, _"Darcy was acting as if he was some kind of righteous and innocent saint."_ She eyed Darcy with a look of dissatisfaction and frowned.

"Do you honestly not have any idea what would cause my sister's temper to rise, Mr. Darcy?" Jane coldly questioned as she threw him a sharp and accusing look. She refused to answer Darcy's inquiries. He should be the one figuring out his own mistakes.

Sensing Jane's own temper and frustration rising, Darcy racked his mind for a way to set forth his intentions. Jane was his last hope for reconciling with Elizabeth. He could not afford to have Jane turned against him. After he spent several moments to gather his words, he spoke.

"Miss Bennet—I—I do not have the talent of directly expressing exactly what I would like to say. This situation is as awkward for me as it is for you—if not, more. I know you must feel angry at me for being the cause of all your sister's pain and troubles. However, I now humbly come before you and ask you for your help, guidance, and advice. I apologize for unconventionally stating my feelings of another before a woman—as indecent as that is—but you must allow me to explain my sentiments. Elizabeth is dearer to me than words can ever describe; her presence is the reason for my existence. It is my greatest hope to settle everything between us so that we can clearly understand the feelings of one another. However, I find it hard to communicate with her as I feel that there are misunderstandings between us she is not clearly setting forth," Darcy finished, looking to Jane anxiously.

Jane's gaze softened as she allowed her sympathy for Darcy to increase. For the sake of her sister's happiness, she decided to help helpless man sitting desperately before her. She knew that it was hard for Darcy's character to bring himself down to her level and ask for advice. And for that, she admired him.

"I will do the best in my ability to help you. Therefore, I shall explain to you the reasons as to why my sister is as angry as she is," Jane responded as a look of pure relief and gratification spread across Darcy's face. "First and foremost, Lizzy is angry at you for allowing Miss Bingley to stay with you in Italy for the full duration of two years. She believes that Miss Bingley outweighs her in both societal rank and importance. She feels abandoned and rejected; tossed aside and unneeded," she continued.

Darcy's eyes widened at the magnitude of the misunderstanding. He blamed himself for not explaining earlier that his act of allowing Caroline to stay with him was simply a favor to Charles. When Caroline begged to go to Italy with him on terms of helping Georgiana adjust to a new life, Charles agreed. He could not undermine his best friend's consent for he had no want of offending him.

"That is a misunderstanding I shall set straight with her," Darcy replied with a slight grimace.

"Secondly, Elizabeth feels that you care little for her feelings. She feels that you are oblivious to all the pain she has had to bear when you left and that the wounds you inflicted upon her have all be unattended to."

Darcy flinched as his upper portion of his face winced. There he was again as the inconsiderate and ignorant beast of insensitivity. How many lessons must it take for him to learn the importance of one's thoughtfulness and compassion? How much has he lost already without those crucial and vital character traits?

Darcy shook his head. Hardly above a whisper, he said, "Regretfully, I have made my faults—and they are deep and grave."

"And lastly, Elizabeth is most pained because she did not receive a single word from you since the time you left," Jane promptly continued, wondering how Darcy would address this problem.

Darcy's jaws fell and his eyes widened further as an even bigger misunderstanding was piled onto him. "What does she mean to not have received a single word? She ought to have received a word—if not plenty. I have written to her so many times, I do not even remember how many," said Darcy, his brows furrowing in confusion.

"But how can that be? Lizzy has not received a single one of your letters. It is exactly that ails her most," Jane responded, her eyes widening to Darcy's claim.

Before Darcy could respond, Charles walked into the room.

"I have finished responding to the letters, and I think we have gone over and rechecked everything that could possibly be done," said Charles a bit wearily as he stifled a yawn.

"In that case, I should be heading home. Mama is waiting for me to fit the dress one final time," Jane answered and allowed Charles to guide her to the front door.

"Until tomorrow, then, Jane," Charles blushed, placing a soft kiss on her forehead. Jane smiled and gave him a warm embrace in return.

"Thank you, Miss Bennet," Darcy said, nodding towards Jane in earnest appreciation.

"My pleasure, Mr. Darcy," Jane replied as she gave a light curtsey before being escorted into the carriage.

When she left, Darcy was left to scrutinize the situation. He would have to apologize for his inconsiderateness and explain the reason for Caroline's stay, but he did not know how to address the letters. Why she never received them is now the biggest mystery before him. Although the suspicion of Caroline being the reason crossed his thoughts, he dismissed the conjecture for he did not believe anyone to be capable of committing such a ludicrous act.

Even though Darcy wanted time to sort things out, he had other businesses to attend to. That night before the wedding, Charles had become as nervous as he had ever seen him. Into the late hours of the night, Darcy comforted his friend and tried to soothe Charles's nervousness and anxiety for the day that was soon to come.

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a/n: I tried to convey the thoughts and emotions to Jane and Darcy's character, but I feel like I have fallen short of the goal. They could have used a bit more character development. Anyways--please submit a review! 


	11. The Wedding

a/n: I find it interesting that a lot of reivewers have compared this fanfic to a movie called The Notebook. I have never seen this movie, although all of your comparisons are making me want to watch it. However, I am trying to keep myself from watching it as the movie's plot might influence the plot of the fanfic. ANYWAYS. I'll stop my rambling and allow you to read. Enjoy!

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Over the hilltops and across the countryside, two occupants of Longbourn were wide awake. Elizabeth and Jane lay upon their beds, beneath warm layers of bedding. Their heads were slightly tilted toward the ceiling, their arms about their heads as they enjoyed their last night to be spent together.

All day long, Jane had been debating within herself. Was she to tell Elizabeth what Darcy had said? That he had indeed written to her and had no idea why she did not receive a single word of all he wrote? Would Elizabeth react to this piece of news with relief or incredulity? If the first, surely Elizabeth's temper would even out. If the second—Jane did not even want to think of what would happen. The last she wanted to happen was to further upset Elizabeth. Finally, she concluded that Darcy would tell Elizabeth of this situation himself, for there was no way he would go by without addressing it. It was something far too great for him to ignore.

"Do you think we shall ever be able to do this again? Lie in the same bed and share secrets with another into the darkest hours of the night?" Elizabeth sadly questioned, giving Jane a sidelong glance.

"It is most unfortunate that we will no longer be able to share a bed," Jane remorsefully responded, "However, we will always find another way to share our secrets. Netherfield is not too far a distance to travel. Do not worry, Lizzy, we shall see each other often."

Elizabeth sighed and nodded.

"What do you suppose marriage will be like?" Elizabeth asked, her forehead slightly furrowed in pensiveness.

"I have an idea, but I will count on it to change. Marriage sounds like something so distant and foreign, yet mine is but a few hours away. I have attempted to define marriage for myself so many times already—but to no avail. I believe marriage holds an intangible definition that one discovers only after experiencing it. However, I suppose marriage is the path to unconditional love—the everlasting bond shared between a couple that will triumph through all difficulties," Jane thoughtfully said.

"A speculation well spoken," Elizabeth softly answered. She paused and a heavy silence settled between them.

Knowing that Elizabeth's thoughts had drifted to Darcy once more, Jane put her arm around Elizabeth and gently stroked her hair.

"All will work out in the end, Lizzy," she whispered into her sister's ear.

Elizabeth sighed and nodded slightly. "It is late and we should be getting some rest now. You will need it for tomorrow. I suspect Mama will be waking you up at the crack of dawn to get you ready for the wedding."

"Yes, I suppose sleeping now would be a wise thing to do. I would hate to get married looking like a corpse bride with heavy bags under my eyes."

Elizabeth gave a slight chuckle, kissed Jane goodnight and swiftly rolled over to her side of the bed. Pushing all of her thoughts out of her mind, she drifted into sleep.

* * *

Elizabeth groaned as her mother stepped into the room shortly after her sharp knocks at the door.

"Jane, dear, you need to get up now or you shall be late. We must get you ready," Mrs. Bennet hollered as she strode over to their bedside. Turning to Elizabeth, she yanked the blanket off of her daughters. "Lizzy, you too! You must help your sister. Get up, both of you, now!"

Elizabeth and Jane groaned again before stepping out of their bed. Their toes cringed as they touched the cold floor, and they clumsily put on their corsets. Mama soon burst into the room again, this time carrying Jane's wedding dress. It was more than evident that her nerves had taken over again.

She ushered Jane over and began to help her dress. Elizabeth was at Jane's side, helping her into the heavy dress. They had to be careful, for although the beads sewn onto the dress made it stylish, the dress itself was delicately fragile.

After helping Jane into her dress, Mama and Elizabeth along with their maid helped put up Jane's hair. They twisted Jane's hair into several knots that gracefully came together to make one elegant knot. Into the creases of her hair, they put in beautiful white flowers, each set with a diamond-like stone in the middle. The stones sparkled in Jane's hair, catching and reflecting the sun's bright gleam.

When they were finally done with Jane, each stood back to admire Jane's radiance. Flawless in her appearance, Jane's beautiful appearance was beyond the description of words.

"Oh, my dear Jane, you are absolutely—Mr. Bingley is a very lucky gentleman to have you," Elizabeth breathed, admiring her sister's beauty.

"I am a very lucky woman to have Mr. Bingley," Jane gushed in response.

"Of course you are lucky to have him," Lydia spoke as she stood by the doorway with Frederic. "What a rich man—imagine—five thousand pounds a year. If only my dear George had such a high income. But no matter, love is most important, is it not?" she finished, tossing her son in her arms.

Jane looked at Lydia and nodded. "What you speak of is true. Love is the most important of all."

Elizabeth bowed her head. Although it was evident that Lydia envied Jane of Mr. Bingley's large income and wealth, she still managed to emphasize the importance of love. Even Lydia, through all her flightiness and greed acknowledged love to be of some significance. Even Lydia understood the concept of love to a certain degree. Elizabeth felt like a fool in knowing that she had undermined the importance of love in both marriage and life itself.

Elizabeth's thoughts were distracted as a maid brought in breakfast for Jane.

"I cannot," she breathed, shoving the tray of food towards Elizabeth. "I do not believe my stomach to be capable of retaining anything I eat."

"When it was my wedding day, I was as happy as ever—not even in the least bit nervous. Of course, it is wise of you not to eat anything, for I doubt Mr. Bingley would like to take somebody fat for a bride. I myself rationed out my meals before the wedding and have done so ever since," Lydia insensitively chirped as Jane and Elizabeth exchanged quick glances.

Elizabeth put her arm around Jane's shoulder comfortingly. "Do not be nervous Jane; you know the procedures to the ceremony as well as anybody else."

When the clock struck eight, Jane was helped into the carriage and the Bennets headed towards the church in town for Jane's wedding ceremony.

* * *

The stained glass windows of the church shone with an array of multifarious colors. Elizabeth glanced around and found rows of people sitting upon the wooden benches, observing the ceremony of betrothal between the bride and groom. Although she knew most of the people sitting in the room, she supposed that those she had never seen in her life belonged to Charles's side of the family.

At the first row of the church sat the parents of Charles. The elder Mr. Bingley was a pleasant looking man with a warm smile and gentle eyes. It was apparent that Charles had received his good nature from his father. His wife, however, was a short and thin woman with bright red hair, who sat in her seat with pursed lips and a condescending look. Apparently she was not too pleased with her son's choice for a bride. Her air and presence unpleasantly reminded Elizabeth of Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth sympathized with her sister in knowing that save Mr. Bingley, her other in-laws all possessed complicating characters no one would want to cope with.

After a series of exchanging vows and promises, Jane and Charles were finally married. The wedding feast was to be held at Netherfield, where a ball held in Jane's honor was soon to follow. When all the guests finally arrived for the feast, Elizabeth eyed Caroline walking with Darcy. During the split second she allowed herself to steal a glance, Darcy looked back and met her eyes.

Elizabeth wheeled herself around and hastily began walking out of sight. Praying that she would be able to blend in with the swarm of people standing outside, she headed towards the crowd. However, she soon found that Darcy had left Caroline and had begun to make his way towards her. With a flutter in her heart and a pulsating rush of uncontrollable emotions, Elizabeth spontaneously decided to walk into the woods instead.

She found herself standing before the pond once again as she had left it a couple days ago. The ducks were still in the pond; the wind still hustled between the trees. Just as the water still lapped with gentle creases; the reflection of Darcy appeared and rippled once more across the pond.

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a/n: Reviews greatly appreciated! I apologize for such a slow update. I have been been on vacation and the holidays have kept me busy. I hope everyone has a safe and happy holiday season. I'll make no promises, but I will try to get the next chapter up at a faster pace. 


	12. Unexpected Absurdities

a/n: A portion of this chapter was inspired by an idea given by a reviewer. I owe my thanks to you.

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Elizabeth tensed. So he had found her again. Both stood in silence as Darcy was unsure of how to speak. Elizabeth sensed Darcy's cowardliness and anger spewed out of her uncontrollably. 

Without a word, she bent over, picked up a stone, and threw it at Darcy's reflection. The stone momentarily destroyed Darcy's reflection, sending ripples out in every direction as its weight displaced the water. When the ripples calmed, Darcy's reflection appeared as it was. Without another thought, Elizabeth picked up another pebble and cast it at his reflection again. The pebbles came one after another; one after another.

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth, standing as still as he could. Her loose brown curls hung gently around her face, her dress blowing from the gentle breeze. Through Elizabeth's reflection, Darcy saw her eyes. Her wounded eyes were full of abandonment and pain. Her face was pale and her expression was disheartening. Her body was stripped of its usual flawless posture and was now slightly slumped. She looked so vulnerable; so fragile. How he wanted to shield her from everything in the world that threatened her happiness.

His heart ached for her. His heart ached for every stone she unhesitatingly cast at his reflection; every feeling of hurt that ruthlessly rendered her helpless. His heart ached for her misery and felt for her despair. His heart longed to attain what should have been, and his heart deeply regretted every action he had taken that landed him away from Elizabeth.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Darcy found himself addressing Elizabeth.

"If it will help you any more, Miss Elizabeth, may I be so bold as to advise you that throwing the rocks directly at me will actually inflict more pain than what you are currently doing."

Elizabeth dropped her arm and the pebble she held in her hand fell to the floor with a gentle thump. A moment of silence passed between the couple.

"I will never hurt you in my knowledge, Mr. Darcy. I can never hurt you. Surely you must know that."

Her large, hazel eyes sincerely stared into his, sending waves of heat that coursed through Darcy's body. Darcy gazed back at her, unsure of where to begin. Wishing more than ever that he had taken the time to compose a respectable and admirable apologetic speech, Darcy found himself at loss for words.

In response to Elizabeth's statement, all he had to offer was a meek nod.

"Miss Bennet," he finally croaked. "I have some explaining that I need to do. There are misunderstandings between us that need to be sorted out and taken care of."

"Mr. Darcy, I have already heard what you have to say. Quite frankly, I have little interest to whatever else you might have in mind to tell me," Elizabeth curtly responded as she tried to distant herself from him.

"Miss Elizabeth—please—it pains me greatly to know that we are not on the same level of understanding. Therefore, I earnestly beg you to listen to me."

Darcy was pleading now. Elizabeth saw right through his eyes and found the sincere desperateness of the man standing in front of her. Her gaze softened on him, and she took a step closer to him.

"I will hear what you have to say, Mr. Darcy. However, it must wait until after the wedding celebrations. I must hurry back now, for the wedding toasts are soon to begin," Elizabeth answered, looking at the ground.

"As long as you will hear me, Miss Elizabeth—I will wait as long as I have to," Darcy responded, a look of relief spreading across his face.

"Please allow me to escort you back to the estate," Darcy said as he offered Elizabeth his arm.

Elizabeth hesitated. Concluding that it was probably going to be the last time she could ever slip her arms around Darcy again, Elizabeth took his arms and the two proceeded towards Netherfield. Although Elizabeth wanted to savor the time she spent by Darcy's presence, she forced herself not to allow her own selfishness result in her missing Jane's wedding toast.

Elizabeth and Darcy were one of the last people to enter the grand ballroom. Jane's face radiantly blushed as Charles stood next to her, holding a glass of wine.

"I am more than blessed to have Jane as my wife," Charles beamed. "I have never thought before that such a beautiful woman would one day be alongside me as my bride. I have always wished, but now I am more than delighted to know that my wish has become reality. Therefore, I would like to hold the ball today in the honor of my dearest Jane. I would also like to offer my deepest gratitude for all who are present today—our wedding day is something truly memorable and special to the both of us. Thank you for being part of it."

The crowd of people cheered and clapped. Jane's cheeks crimsoned as she threw a shy smile and look at Charles. The music promptly began, and the couples broke off as the dancing began.

A few moments later, Elizabeth glanced at her mother and her face quickly darkened with embarrassment. Mama's smile was spread from ear to ear as she pranced around the room, patting the shoulders of guests, loudly exclaiming, "That's my daughter! That's my Jane. And do you see that rich, wealthy man standing next to her? That's my daughter's husband. My eldest daughter has married someone of good standing! Oh, imagine that!"

Elizabeth's face swiftly turned into an even darker shade of red when she discovered that Darcy was also looking at her mother and was evidently taking a note of amusement over her ill-bred behavior.

Without another thought, Elizabeth hastily hurried over to her mother's side and tugged at her sleeve. It took several tugs to get her mother's attention.

With a glass of wine in one hand and a fan in another, Mrs. Bennet whipped around.

"Yes Lizzy? Oh, married, your dear sister is. Jane married to such a rich man and such a high-classed family!"

Her speech was slurred. It was clear that she had taken one drink too many.

"Mama, as happy as you may be with Jane getting married, I strongly advise you to keep your ecstatic thoughts to yourself," Elizabeth said through gritted teeth, reaching over to take the wine glass from her mother's hand.

Her mother threw an angry look at her and snatched her hand away.

"Elizabeth Bennet!" Mrs. Bennet screeched and pointed her finger at Elizabeth. "Your sister has married and I, as your mother, am free to express my own feelings at my own will. You have no right to put an end to my frivolity, Elizabeth Bennet—no right. I will have my frivolity—I will have my wine!"

Elizabeth felt her cheeks burn as quite a few people turned their attention to her yelling mother. Elizabeth gave an apologetic look to the guests and desperately glanced around the room for her father. Mr. Bennet was nowhere to be seen. With a heavy sigh, she attempted to drag her mother out of the room.

"Mama, please, come with me," she urged, slipping her arm around her mother.

"I—am—not—going—anywhere," Mrs. Bennet loudly shot back, shrugging off her daughter as the wine in her glass swayed dangerously to her dramatic motions.

"Mama—you need to leave right now," Elizabeth pleaded, attempting to drag her mother out once again, her own voice and temper rising. She was not going to have her mother's behavior bring shame upon her family. Especially on Jane's wedding day.

"Elizabeth Bennet I demand that you get out of my sight! I will not have you—"

"My dear Mrs. Bennet, would you mind if I escorted you out of the room for a brief moment?" asked a deep voice behind Elizabeth.

Elizabeth spun around at the familiar voice and found herself face to face with Darcy. She turned to look at her mother, curious to see what her response to Darcy's offer would be.

Mrs. Bennet confusingly squinted at Darcy's face for a moment as though she was trying to match his face with his name. It took her a few seconds to recognize the tall man offering his arm to her.

"Mr. Darcy? You are back? The rich man who once courted Elizabeth? Well, I am telling you now that you shall have no regrets. This girl is impossible, trying to separate me from my own merriments. If you are not careful, she will take away all your happiness too," Mrs. Bennet irritably said as she scathingly glared at her daughter.

"Yes, I will take heed of that. Now would you be so kind as to let me escort you?" Darcy patiently repeated his question.

Mrs. Bennet looked up at Darcy and nodded. "Why yes, of course, anything for you, Sir. And what a handsome face you have. Elizabeth must have been a fool to turn you away."

Elizabeth gritted her teeth and felt her face hotly burned. Her mother's behavior was beyond the descriptions of ill-breeding. Mrs. Bennet somehow managed to get herself intoxicated and was now rambling about inappropriate and completely irrelevant things. Never in her life had Elizabeth seen someone so out of control after a few glasses of wine. Although she had heard stories of several drunken accounts, she had never witnessed such a scene—let alone a tantrum thrown by her own mother.

As Darcy led Mrs. Bennet out of the ballroom, Elizabeth followed closely behind. More than once, Darcy had to stop and steady her mother, for Mrs. Bennet had lost her ability to walk upright and straight. She stumbled and swayed to and fro, waving her arms around with her glass of wine still in her right hand. It seemed like an eternity until Darcy finally managed to settle Mrs. Bennet into an armchair in a private room.

Mrs. Bennet collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh.

"Oh, this feels so much better," she breathed, fanning herself as her eyelids started to droop.

"Please, have some rest, Mrs. Bennet," said Darcy, handing her a seat cushion.

"Oh, yes, I think I'll just—"

Nobody learned of what exactly Mrs. Bennet planned on doing, for after a few short moments, she began to snore soundly.

Elizabeth stood by the doorway, anxiously stepping in the room after she was sure that her mother had fallen asleep. She slowly approached Darcy and cleared her throat uncertainly.

"I am so sorry—I had no idea that my mother did not know of her wine tolerance level. I apologize for her temper and any inconvenience it has caused you. I am so sorry, if there is anything I can do—anything at all, I would—"

"The pleasure is all mine," Darcy interrupted, breaking Elizabeth's stammer. "Although I will suggest that you keep a closer eye on her alcohol intake the next time another member of your family marries," he added with an amused smile.

"Thank you so much for coming to my rescue, Mr. Darcy. I do not know what I would have done with my mother throwing a scene in the middle of a ball. I have no idea where my father went," Elizabeth said, giving Darcy a weak smile.

Darcy nodded.

"I do believe your mother will be all right after she wakes up," Darcy finally said, breaking the silence between them.

"Yes, it would be nice to have a mother with her senses back. As much as I thought Mama had been without her senses, I am now thankful for what she has after seeing how she is like completely without them," Elizabeth guffawed as she imagined what life would be like if her mother acted like that everyday.

Darcy chuckled. "Perhaps we should leave her in here and allow her to sleep?"

Elizabeth nodded in agreement and the two proceeded towards the ballroom. When they reached the room, Darcy spoke.

"If I remember correctly, I was told a couple years back that dancing was one among the best ways to socialize with another besides its apparent act of encouraging affection," Darcy started, blushing slightly in embarrassment.

"Even if one's partner is barely tolerable, yes," Elizabeth eagerly replied, wishing to hear her suspicions of Darcy's true intentions confirmed.

"Then will you, Miss Elizabeth Bennet, do me the honor of having this dance?" Darcy asked, slowly bowing to her.

Elizabeth smiled and nodded, curtseying in response. Darcy took her hand and the couple began gliding up and down the hall, losing and regaining contact as they danced to the music. Elizabeth's face merrily blushed and her eyes sparkled under the light. Her dress flowed to the rhythm of the music and her movements were graceful as she moved to the beat. Darcy's hand was firmly planted around her waist and he steadily guided her, balancing and keeping her in time to the music.

Elizabeth tossed back her head and laughed as the music took a turn for a faster beat. The violins in the orchestra now fiddled at an upbeat tempo. Couples began clapping their hands to the beat, and Elizabeth happily joined them, skipping and twirling to the beat. Seeing her merry and cheerful, Darcy could not help but smile and join in. It had been a while since he last allowed him to indulge in such frivolity.

As the music slowed once again, Darcy cut in.

"Why so quiet this evening, Miss Bennet? Not a single word? Are you in the mood of being unsociable and taciturn? However, seeing as though I have already attempted to spark a conversation, it is your turn to speak," Darcy teased as he spun Elizabeth around once again.

Elizabeth attempted to bite back a smile, but found her attempt to be useless. Darcy's remark recalled her memory of their first dance together when she complained of Darcy's reticent behavior. It was she who had teased him that night, daring to test the borders that surrounded his line of patience.

"Dear Sir, I am afraid that you are soon to regret your observation, for I do not aim to keep my mouth shut at all—not even for a split second—for the rest of the night," she playfully retorted.

"Well, if that be the case, I hereby challenge you to make me regret and take back what I have just said," Darcy lightheartedly said.

"Your challenge has been accepted, Mr. Darcy. I strongly advise you to prepare yourself," Elizabeth said with a slight smirk. In her headstrong and competitive nature, she was determined to talk as much as she ever had.

Just as she was about to open her mouth and speak again, a voice joined in.

"Thank you, Mr. Darcy. I will take it from here now."

* * *

a/n: please review--not only are they encouraging, they are helpful as well. Make some suggestions or give some ideas, and they may very well be used for future installments! Last but not least, Happy New Year!


	13. A Fallacious Masquerade

a/n: the longest installment yet. enjoy!

* * *

Darcy immediately withdrew his hand from Elizabeth's waist.

"Of course, Mr. Tennyson," he muttered reluctantly, taking a step back and bowing his head. "Thank you for the honor, Miss Bennet," he softly said as he reached for Elizabeth's hand and gently placed a kiss upon it.

"I will take my leave now." And with that, Darcy strode away out of sight with Elizabeth staring after him.

"Lizzy? Dearest?" Matthew questioned, attempting to direct Elizabeth's attention back to him. Hearing Matthew call her name, she snapped back and faced her fiancé.

"Matthew? You—you were not to be here for a couple days longer," Elizabeth stammered, as her realization of his unexpected arrival slowly sank into her.

"Are you not glad that I am back? I traveled as fast as I could after finishing with my business just to see you at an earlier time. I missed you dearly, my Lizzy," he said, wrapping his arms around her waist as he swayed to the music.

"Yes—most surprised, but I am glad that you are back," Elizabeth murmured half-heartedly, wishing that Matthew would somehow withdraw his affections for her.

"Lizzy, dear, are you all right? Has he done something to you, that Mr. Darcy? You seem a bit—distracted," Matthew continued, his voice sounding concerned.

"No—no—I am fine. I am just a bit tired. But no matter, it is nothing a little bit of rest cannot fix," Elizabeth reassured him, her eyes still searching for Darcy.

"Are you looking for someone?" Matthew questioned, observing Elizabeth's darting eyes.

"No—Matthew—please, excuse me for a moment. There is somebody I need to check on," Elizabeth responded as she tried to leave Matthew behind.

"I will come with you. Things are always easier when accomplished with two people," he insisted, making a move to follow Elizabeth.

"Matthew, this matter is nothing that cannot be handled by a single person. I will ask you for help if assistance is needed. However, I must ask that you respect my choice of finishing this task alone," she answered, her voice hinting slight annoyance as the tension between them increased.

Knowing Elizabeth's stubborn nature, Matthew knew that he would have no other choice but to consent to Elizabeth's wish.

"As you wish, dearest Lizzy," he muttered unhappily. He had traveled by night for hours without rest in the chilly night, covering numerous miles in hopes of seeing Elizabeth. To his great dismay, she regarded him with little attention—a treatment he was unfamiliar with. In the past, Elizabeth had always given him her undivided attention whenever he was with her. Save Jane, he had always been her priority. Tonight, it was different. Tonight, half of her attention was spent on another man, wasted—on that proud and insolent man named Darcy.

Sensing Matthew's tensions rise, Elizabeth sighed and turned to address him again.

"Matthew, dear, you look exhausted. This business of mine will take a while to complete, and I believe it best for you to get some rest back at home. Your family must be eager to see you."

Matthew stared back at Elizabeth in confusion. Why was she dismissing him so abruptly? After so many days of separation, should she not be longing to spend time with him? Matthew's brows slightly furrowed and he surveyed Elizabeth. She did not look angry or displeased—only anxious and irritated. But what was the cause of her annoyance? Certainly he had nothing to do with it, for he had only just returned. However, he knew from Elizabeth's character that inquiring after her sentiments in an untimely manner would only make matters worse.

Elizabeth felt Matthew's dismay and sought to comfort him. She knew that he was the most innocent in the entire affair. His being in the wrong place at the wrong time was his only crime. And that was a crime he could not be charged against. After all, it was Elizabeth who allowed him into her life. She was the one to blame for her irrational stubbornness.

"Do not think that I do not appreciate you for traveling in the freezing night just to see me," she said, looking up to meet his eyes. His emerald green eyes piercingly gazed back at her; as if he felt that looking deeply enough into her eyes would unlock all the secrets Elizabeth tried to hide.

"Because I do appreciate your efforts—very much," she continued. After a slight moment of hesitation, she stood tip-toed and softly kissed Matthew on his cheek. Matthew responded to her affection by leaning down and kissing her squarely on the lips. Elizabeth instinctively broke apart from the kiss and was embarrassed that she had done so too quickly. She discovered that she could not bring herself to kiss Matthew that way—not with what she felt for Darcy. Matthew leaned forward to settle another kiss upon Elizabeth's forehead. As he was doing so, Elizabeth saw behind him a very flustered looking Darcy.

She stood back and let out a small gasp. Darcy had seen everything. Although she did not know how long Darcy had been observing her, she knew that Darcy had seen her initiate the kiss with Matthew. On his face was not only a look of pure jealousy and shock, but also a look of wounded betrayal.

"What is it, Lizzy?" Matthew asked, anxious to know what had triggered his fiancé's bewildered reaction.

"Nothing," she lied, trying to recompose her face. After another pause, she continued, "It is late, Matthew. You should be getting home. Good night," she said.

Half comforted and still half uneasy, Matthew proceeded to leave the ballroom. On his way out, he glimpsed towards the direction Elizabeth was looking at. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the unmistakable figure of Darcy walk across the crowd and out of sight.

* * *

Elizabeth glanced around the room. Darcy was nowhere to be seen. She could not have imagined a worse timing for Matthew to return. Just as she was familiarizing herself with Darcy again, he turns up and ushers Darcy away. Elizabeth was overcome by an intensive wave of emotions. Her playful interaction with Darcy during their dance reminded her of how it used to be between them. Elizabeth had always taken the initiative of teasing Darcy, and Darcy would happily oblige and exercise his sense of wit in return. For a brief moment, Elizabeth felt that she was together with Darcy again—all her troubles had melted away from her and she rejoiced in his presence. For a short moment in time, he was hers. She was deeply saddened that the moment had ended so quickly. 

She continued walking onwards, hoping to run into Darcy. She suddenly felt the urge to listen to everything Darcy had to say and regretted that she had continuously turned him down and refused to hear him out. On her absent-minded trek, she walked straight into Caroline Bingley.

Caroline abruptly paused and said, "Miss Elizabeth—what a surprise to have you at such a close distance to my face. Pray, does my new sister ever watch where she is going?"

"I am sorry, Miss Bingley. I will make sure that it will never happen again," Elizabeth coarsely answered, wincing at the thought of Caroline becoming her sister-in-law.

"But I suppose your arrival is of some timing. I have been meaning to talk to you. After all, you are part of the family now. I now find it necessary to address some affairs to you that a woman cannot hide from her own sister," she continued on after dismissing Elizabeth's apology with a wave of her hand.

Elizabeth blinked at Caroline and her face furrowed in confusion. She had no idea what Caroline spoke of and the idea that Caroline cared enough for her to share private matters with her was bizarre.

Ignoring the look of bewilderment on Elizabeth's face, Caroline signaled for Elizabeth to follow her, and the two made their way out of the ballroom. With a few twists and turns around several halls and corridors, Elizabeth soon found herself in a private room she had never before seen. Its walls were richly furnished and on its walls hung portraits of Caroline and her sister. Elizabeth suspected that it was the part of the manor where Caroline and her sister stayed in during their visits. Just as Elizabeth was beginning to survey the portraits, Caroline spoke.

"Do have a seat, Elizabeth."

She now addressed Elizabeth without a title. Whether she was patronizing Elizabeth's presence or felt that her new status as sister-in-law did not require her to do so, Elizabeth was unsure.

"What do you wish to speak to me so urgently about?" Elizabeth questioned, daring to pry into Caroline's business first. Elizabeth no longer had any fear of offending Caroline, for she no longer had power over Jane and Charles's marital affairs. Jane was happily united with Charles and none of Caroline's schemes could tear that apart.

"Matters concerning Mr. Darcy. I witnessed the two of you dancing tonight. It was pleasantly charming," Caroline spoke in a casual tone, helping herself to a glass of wine by the table.

Elizabeth frowned. What would Caroline have to say about Darcy? That it was out of propriety to dance with one who was not her betrothed? Or was she too afraid to address her obvious jealousies to Darcy and instead resorted to flinging them in front of her face instead?

Caroline, sensing Elizabeth's confusion continued.

"Before I continue with the subject of Mr. Darcy anymore, I have a few things that I would like to say. I understand that we have never been off in great terms, Elizabeth. However, as your new sister-in-law, it is my wish that we establish a good relationship for the sake of both our families. There is no greater honor than having a harmonious family. Therefore, I am willing to set behind our disagreements in the past and gain a new acquaintance."

Elizabeth had to exercise all of her self restraint to keep her jaw from falling agape. Here was Caroline Bingley, extending an amiable offer of friendship to her. Of all things Elizabeth thought she would address, this was one among the last. As Caroline spoke, Elizabeth carefully observed her and found, strangely enough, that Caroline had nothing but an earnest look upon her face. She did not find an ounce of behavior that betrayed Caroline's sincerity. Aware that Caroline was observing her reaction with careful scrutiny, Elizabeth hurried to respond.

"For the happiness of my sister and her marriage with your brother, I would like to start anew with you. Our past no longer matters—it is of our relationship now that does. Therefore, I readily accept your friendship and am honored to become your acquaintance," Elizabeth said, with no other option but to submit to Caroline's offer.

"What I am about to tell you is something that I feel you should know. As a sister of Jane's also, I feel that I should do everything in my power to protect her dearest sister. It will give you great pain to know, Elizabeth, but I feel that you will be better off with this piece of understanding," she said before pausing to see how Elizabeth would respond.

Elizabeth was thoroughly lost in her attempt to grasp Caroline's intentions. How drastic a character change Caroline had undergone! Was it possible for her to so dramatically change in such a short amount of time? Just a few days ago she addressed Elizabeth with overbearing condescension and sneer. Now, Caroline was addressing her with utmost civility without a hint of patronization.

Although she highly doubted the possibility of Caroline's personality ever changing, she was reminded of Darcy's dramatic change in character. She had learned then that first impressions did not truly reveal the person within and had since sought to limit her prejudices toward certain individuals. Perhaps Caroline was truly ready to accept her as a member of the family and no longer envied her. Perhaps she had thought too poorly of Caroline's personality and should remove her biased assumptions. Perhaps Jane had been right all along—people are not always as they seem.

Elizabeth did not want her prejudices to stand in the way again. She had learned from that lesson a few years ago—and it was not a lesson she will ever forget. Patching up the harm her prejudices had caused took up a great amount of effort. It was an effort she never wanted to undertake again if it could be avoided. Finally, Elizabeth concluded that she would judge Caroline as she spoke, taking sure to observe her behavior closely.

"And what exactly is this piece of understanding that I lack the knowledge of?" asked Elizabeth, a mound of possibilities piling up in her head.

Caroline paused and hesitated as if she did not know how her thoughts could be best presented.

"It is difficult for me to say, Elizabeth. But as your sister and well-wisher, I strongly advise you to keep your distance from Mr. Darcy. I believe that with this way, you can protect yourself from receiving further pain."

Elizabeth sat, aghast. Was this another one of Caroline's schemes to keep her away from Darcy so that she could take him for herself?

With an unconvinced and determined look, Elizabeth firmly asked, "Why?"

"It is in my belief that Mr. Darcy will inflict more pain on you. Did he not already with his departure?" Caroline asked, redirecting the question back at Elizabeth.

"I will not deny that his departure has given me pain, but what reason do you have that makes you so sure that Darcy will hurt me again?"

"Elizabeth, it is undeniable to anybody that Mr. Darcy once loved you. Admittedly, I was dreadfully jealous of you, with you being the person he devoted his attentions to and showered admirations for. In my jealousy of you, I often patronized you—and for that, I offer my deepest apologies," Caroline said, her face contorted into the lines of true sincerity. "However, it is in my doubt that Mr. Darcy loves you any longer," she finished, earnestly looking at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth sat motionlessly in her seat as all Caroline had said sunk into her. It was true then, that Caroline had indeed been envious of her once upon a time. Whether she was still envious of her at the moment, Elizabeth could not tell.

"What justifies your belief that Mr. Darcy does not love me any longer?" Elizabeth defiantly questioned, her eyes daring Caroline to challenge her unwavering belief.

"In all of two years, Mr. Darcy has never communicated with you."

Growing tenser in her seat, Elizabeth's eyes widened.

"How do you know that?" she asked, surprised that Caroline would so intimately know of Darcy's affairs.

"As I have said before, I was exceedingly envious of you. Therefore, I constantly questioned Mr. Darcy whether or not he had written to you, for I dearly wanted to know if he still had any lingering affections for you. It shames me to admit that I had been hopeful that he had grown detached over you since he chose to leave England without your company. Every time I asked him that particular question, he always seemed very exasperated. One time, he even told me that you were lost to him."

Elizabeth's heart sank. Caroline had spoken the truth—Darcy had not written to her. And now, it became clear why. She had long ago suspected that his affections for her had diminished when he made not a single effort to communicate with her. Now, her suspicions were confirmed.

After a pause, Elizabeth asked the question she longed to have answered.

"During your stay in Italy, did he mention me at all?"

Caroline looked at Elizabeth and slowly spoke, choosing her words with great care, "Your name did come up a few times during a conversation between Georgian and I. However, whenever your name was mentioned, Mr. Darcy did not address to it in anyway."

Elizabeth slowly nodded as the reality of the words sank into her. Who was she to think that he still loved her? Elizabeth silently berated herself for her naivety and foolish dreams. However, another voice spoke to her, reminding her that Darcy had professed his love to her again after he had returned. She quickly stated what was on her mind.

"Not long after Mr. Darcy returned, he told me that he still loved me. If what you say is given credibility for, then what do you suppose Mr. Darcy means?"

Caroline's face momentarily colored before she quickly cleared her throat.

"As much impropriety as this statement contains, I must say that no matter what, men will always be men. However unknow their nature may be, it cannot be ignored, and their flaws must not be overlooked. It is to my conjecture that Mr. Darcy is envious of you, pained that you have found another companion while he was gone. I believe that it adds on even more to his pain that he has yet to find a suitable companion while his old love is already settled to be married."

Elizabeth stopped and pondered Caroline's statement. There was no denying that what Caroline said contained a great deal of truth. It was possible that Darcy was jealous of her engaged status and sought to win back her attentions. Perhaps his regret of leaving her grew when he saw that she had found another; perhaps his acts of affections were triggered by his feelings of envy and not by what he truly felt for her. After all, he did accuse her for being the one who left him.

After a slight hesitation, Elizabeth decided to ask another question to validate Caroline's claims.

"If Mr. Darcy is envious of me finding another, it would reflect upon none other than poor character. Do you aim to keep your distance from such a man? Feelings of envy are dangerous and unpredictable things. If he is capable of such thoughts and takes them to the extremity of reinstating his sentiments for me, is it not possible that he will hurt those around him without hesitation as well?"

Caroline stared at Elizabeth before recomposing herself. Of all things Elizabeth Bennet was, she was not a fool. Elizabeth had asked that question knowing that Caroline was as attached to Darcy as she was. Her demand to know whether or not Caroline will keep her distance from Darcy would tell Elizabeth of her opponent's true intentions. Caroline knew that she had to respond carefully and without a falter. One wrongly uttered word would reveal her true intentions to Elizabeth. It was a mistake she could not afford after progressing so far in her scheme.

"I have talked this matter over with my sister during my visit. She advised me to keep my distance and pass that piece of wisdom onto you. I will take her advice, for I have seen what he has done to you; witnessed all the pain he had knowingly inflicted upon you. It is a pain—no matter how deep my affections for him are—that I will do everything in my power to spare myself from. Knowing this, I have decided to cast away my feelings for him and allow myself to begin courting other gentlemen. Mr. Darcy is no longer who he was to me," Caroline slowly said, as tears began to form in her eyes. She sighed and pitifully glanced at Elizabeth.

Elizabeth had never seen Caroline in such a state before. She had always been haughty and pretentious, and her display of her emotional side was extremely unfamiliar. This led Elizabeth to believe Caroline's sorrows and regrets, for never had she imagined anyone such as Caroline Bingley to be capable of coming so close to tears in front of an unfamiliar acquaintance. In her usual proud and strongly authoritative manner, Caroline would never have allowed anyone to witness her on the verge of tears. It would be a weakness she would never expose to the public; a fault that would inevitably threaten the strength and effectiveness of her authority.

"So it is settled then, that we should both keep our own respectable distances from Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth said, standing up from her seat.

"I believe that you are correct, although I cannot but think how unfortunate that is. Remember, Elizabeth, do not allow Mr. Darcy to get in the way of you and Mr. Tennyson. If you allow him to, you may lose Mr. Tennyson as well and end up with more pain. Pray, dear sister, that you be cautious of your actions as I will be careful over mine."

Caroline curtseyed with great civility and left the room, leaving Elizabeth still standing. Elizabeth leaned against the armchair and was overwhelmed by all she had been exposed to in the last hour. The matter was more complicating than she thought. Although she was surprised at so easily trusting Caroline, Elizabeth could not find anything that she could hold against her statements. There was no harm in following Caroline's advice of keeping distance—it was a solution that Elizabeth herself had heavily considered and even executed for a few days. Nothing she said had conflicted with the truth; all that she had said simply reminded Elizabeth to snap away from her fantasies and return to the world of reality.

As Elizabeth opened the door slowly and peered down the hall, she saw the tall and broad figure of Darcy walking down the hallway. Their eyes met in a quick instant as he made a move to walk towards her. With a slam of the door and a quick dash, she hurried away from Darcy, unable to listen to any more explanations he had to offer. She had heard enough explanations in one night and knew not what she would do if another person offered a whole new interpretation of what she had just heard. Determined to keep her distance from Darcy once again, Elizabeth ran to her room, ignoring the calls of Darcy after her.

Once inside the safety of her room, Elizabeth flung herself onto the bed and groaned in frustration. Just earlier in the night, Darcy had felt so close to her. However, she knew that such closeness demanded impropriety. Elizabeth let out a heavy sigh. A hopelessly drunken mother, a memorable dance with Darcy, a conversation with Caroline—it was all too much to bear. Elizabeth crawled under the covers and drew herself close. The bed seemed so big and empty; Elizabeth felt small and lonely. Tonight, when she needed her most, Jane would not be there.

* * *

a/n: this chapter was particularly difficult to write. it was hard making Caroline seem convincing enough for a intelligent person like elizabeth to believe. i hope i have not stretched anyone's character too much and have dropped enough clues regarding Caroline's true intentions. also, i hope that this was not too confusing to read. please review! suggestions welcome! 


	14. Mutual Understandings

a/n: Sorry for the very late update. Finals and a load of stress have kept me from writing. I will try to update sooner, but hold no promises until all my college interviews are done. Life can really be a pain sometimes. And they say that senior year in high school is a piece of cake. Yeah right. Ok, enough of me rambling--enjoy!

* * *

Elizabeth sat on the leather armchair next to the bed and stared out the window. It was a beautiful day, with the sun warmly shining through the window sill and the birds happily singing their usual duets of entwining melodies. She would have to leave the calm and peaceful scene of tranquility soon, and join her rambunctious family for breakfast downstairs. In the afternoon, they would be departing from Netherfield to return home.

Three prompt knocks at the door drew Elizabeth's attention back into focus.

"Please come in," Elizabeth said absent-mindedly, thinking that Jane had come to inquire about her mother's frenzied mental state from the night before.

Instead, when the doorknob turned and the light-brown maple door opened, Darcy stood by the doorway. Elizabeth jumped up from her seat and obliged a hasty curtsey.

"Mr. Darcy? I was not expecting your company this morning," she began, looking down at the floor.

Darcy stepped into the room and closed the door.

"Please excuse the impropriety of my actions. I find my need to speak with you to be of greater worth than any line of conventionality," he stated, looking at Elizabeth's uncomfortable expression with a stirring sense of anxiety.

"Firstly, I would like to ask why you ran away from me last night."

Elizabeth stared at her feet. She had almost forgotten that Darcy had tried to follow her after she hastily dashed away from him.

"I am to be married, Mr. Darcy. Therefore, I believe that both of us should keep in respectable distances to avoid any talk of indecency," Elizabeth hastily responded, not daring to meet his eyes.

A long pause passed between the couple as both individuals thought of the night before. Darcy studied Elizabeth's face and concluded that she was distressed by something he did not know of.

"I understand you belief, Miss Elizabeth. However, it is in my hopes that we can settle all misunderstandings between us before anything else occurs. I have been looking for you all morning to sort matters out with you. My time here is short, for my sister awaits me at Pemberley. I will take my leave after lunch," he continued, trying to think of what could have put Elizabeth in her current state of misery.

Although Elizabeth's first instinct was to draw distance from Darcy and excuse herself from the room, her growing curiosity over what Darcy had to say strongly tempted her to remain where she was. Concluding that Darcy had been the one who unexpectedly cornered her, Elizabeth resolved that she was not the one at fault. Instead, she looked up at him uncertainly and waited for him to continue his train of thought.

"For the established prosperities and advantageous extensions of my family's trading business, I departed for Italy two years ago," he said, casting his eyes down to the floor as he waited for Elizabeth's response.

Almost immediately came Elizabeth's sardonic response.

"You left me for business?"

Darcy winced. Exactly to his predictions, Elizabeth was not pleased. Although Darcy had expected such a reaction from her, he knew that Elizabeth's temper was not to be trifled with. As the harshness of her tone struck him, he cowered under her evident frustration.

"Yes, I did—and most regrettably so. I received an offer from one of my business partners and he told me about the importance of establishing an extension of my company in Italy. With the increasing business competition here, Italy seemed like the most well suited location in favor of successfully withholding the Darcy family trade," Darcy explained, hoping that his good intentions of securing ancestral family business would soften her anger and redeem himself of his wrongs.

"You left me for the means of establishing a company extension. This is a business that you readily understood would take a long time to steady." Elizabeth was glowering now, and she shot Darcy a look of disgust. What sort of business—no matter how much wealth it promised—should weigh more than her own importance?

Upon hearing the tone of her voice, Darcy understood that Elizabeth's temper had dangerously risen and he sought to lower it in vain.

"Miss Elizabeth, please understand the importance of my situation. It was something that had to be done and taken care of immediately. As head of the Darcy household, I must maintain what has been in my family for generations. I cannot disappoint my father and must fully take on the duty that a son must be committed to."

"Continue setting your priorities alongside business, Mr. Darcy, and you will have no one to continue it for you under the Darcy name," she scornfully snapped, fully ignoring the impropriety of her statement as she disapprovingly glared at the man before her.

Darcy blankly stared back at her, unable to comprehend why Elizabeth could not understand and accept the reason for his departure. His reason was in every way tolerable; his intentions were in every way for the good of his family. Foolishly allowing his impatience to take over him, Darcy shot his retort back at her.

"If you had not gone off and whimsically betrothed yourself to some other man, the prospect of me attaining an heir would not be so far off in the distant future."

"If you had not gone off and left me without reason, I would not have done such a thing," Elizabeth angrily spat. Her temper flared and threatened to intensify.

"Without reason? I beg your pardon, Miss Bennet, for I have given you so many reasons that I do not even recall the amount," Darcy coolly replied, striving to constrain his impatient tone.

"Please be so kind as to not trifle with me, Sir. You and I know both that we have not once communicated in the duration of two years. If such was your intent, I believe we should keep it so."

Darcy eyed Elizabeth with a hard gaze, searching her eyes for the misunderstanding that stood between them. He found them—the dim flickers of pain that glowed beyond the hazel pupils of her chestnut colored eyes.

With a hushed tone, he uttered, "I wrote to you, Miss Elizabeth. I have written to you so many times—so many letters that I have lost my count."

Elizabeth stared back at him as silent seconds passed between them. He had written to her? So many times he had forgotten how many? Then why, after two years of routinely sifting through letters did she not receive a single one?

"You what?" she demandingly asked, eyeing him with a dubious look.

"I wrote to you—consistently, persistently, and faithfully—for a year." Darcy paused and gazed down at Elizabeth, watching her frustrated face soften into lines of wonder. "After a year, I stopped for I had received none of your reply. I believed that you had no wish to speak to me any longer, and that your anger from my departure had driven you to reject all acts of acquaintance I had attempted."

"But Miss Caroline said—" Elizabeth started.

"Miss Bingley said what?" Darcy harshly interjected, his tone cold and terse at the mention of Caroline's name.

"She said that you never bothered to speak of me during your stay in Italy. She said that whenever my name was mentioned, you disregarded it and treated it with indifference," Elizabeth replied.

Her soft answer was met with Darcy's loudly stated inquiry.

"And since when did your senses tell you to listen to anything Miss Caroline Bingley says?"

Elizabeth stared at Darcy once again, her thoughts overflowing her mind. Darcy's deep and demanding voice seemed to have awakened all her sense once more. She could not have felt more like a fool in the entirety of her life. Elizabeth questioned herself. Since when did she qualify Caroline's statements to be more credible than those of Darcy's? If anyone's proclamations were harbored with incredulity, it would be Caroline Bingley's. While Darcy might have been ignorant of her sentiments, he, above all else, was not a liar. How stupid she was to have been tricked by Caroline's scheme. Elizabeth flushed red in the face at the realization of her own foolishness and hung her head in embarrassment.

Upon seeing Elizabeth's flushed reaction, Darcy understood that his point had carried well across.

"I received not one of your letters," came her soft reply after a few moments of silent reflection.

"I know. This was the misunderstanding I had to set straight with you," Darcy gently answered, relieved that his dilemma had finally been revealed. Elizabeth nodded.

The couple continued to look at each other, both taking in the presence of one another as they took great comfort in their unexpected reconciliation.

Elizabeth gazed at the man standing before her and found herself at loss for words. Prejudice had done it once; prejudice had done it again. She had been so immersed in her assumption of Darcy's nonchalant character that she failed to peruse any other possibilities. While she had been the one accusing Darcy for his ignorant disposition, she had also been blind to her own willful ignorance.

"I apologize for all the accusations I set forth on you—they were harvested from the flaws of my own character," Elizabeth spoke as she longed to tell Darcy of her own sentiments. Unable to withhold her thoughts any longer, she continued.

"I sifted through letters day after day for any addressed from you. After month after month of futile attempt, I believed that my suspicions of your wishes to sever all ties from me were true. After all, you are the one with a highly respectable class, and I am but one lowly maiden. I ought to be thankful that any part of my disposition had managed to capture the eyes of a gentleman at all," Elizabeth quietly spoke, now diverting her eyes to the floor as she spoke of the class restraints that held them a world apart from each other.

"I would never have any wishes to sever any ties from you. If anything, I will do everything in my power to gain back all the ties that were lost. I have never thought twice about our class difference, Miss Elizabeth. You taught me long ago that one's social status did not keep away the ungainly flaws of human character. You are to me as equal as any other in this country, and I will admire you no less than any other woman in my society—if not, more."

Elizabeth fell silent. Determined not to cry, she blinked away her tears. There was no doubt now that Darcy still loved her. The only she could do was reprimand herself for her headstrong and rash personality. Ever since she was child, she had taken her own choices to fend for herself. Since her mother was never any help to her problems, Elizabeth often sought out her own decisions and executed them for her own sake. In her stubborn and determined character, her rash choices often landed her in the most unpleasant side of situations. This time, her hasty choice without due consideration had temporarily alleviated her pain, but was paid at the heavy expense of a future without a man she loved.

"I wanted to write to you," Elizabeth softly whispered, her words hardly escaping from her mouth. Darcy's silent reaction prodded Elizabeth to go on.

"I did not know the reason for your departure, and therefore dearly wanted to talk to you." After a slight hesitation and pause, she asked, "Why did you not visit me before you left? I felt abandoned and hurt that you gave me no knowledge or explanation. One day you were here, the next day you were not. I received word of your leave from another source. Did you not believe me to be capable of understanding? Or did you deem me inferior to know the intimate nature of your businesses?"

Darcy looked away, unable to meet Elizabeth's eyes. Not informing her of his departure in person was perhaps his biggest regret. Although he had originally seen it fit to explain his situation to her through letters, he had no idea that interference would prevent her from receiving any of his words. As soon as he returned to Pemberley, Darcy vowed to himself that he would track down the source of intervention. However, before any investigation was to take place, he concluded to first have an interrogation with Caroline Bingley.

"My dear Miss Bennet, I would never think you inferior to understanding anything I have to say. Believe me, I wanted to tell you. Really, I did," he sincerely responded as he drew a step closer to Elizabeth.

Elizabeth looked up at Darcy, her eyes quelling with emotion. With an unsteady voice, whispered her inquiry.

"Then why did you not come?"

Darcy was silent for a moment, as if he was ashamed of his answer. He opened his mouth slightly only to close it again. Taking a deep breath, he spoke, his voice tender and gentle.

"I was not strong enough."

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows as she had expected to hear an answer other than the five words Darcy had used to qualify his weakness in character. Seeing Elizabeth's puzzled reaction, he continued to explain himself.

"I did not trust myself to have the strength to be able to leave you after seeing you. It pained me greatly to leave you behind on such business, and I knew we would be parted for a long time. Therefore, I resolved to write to you instead. I did not think that I would be able to tear myself from you if we parted in person."

Two tears streaked down her cheek as Elizabeth turned around in an attempt to wipe them away. She felt a gentle hand touch her shoulder and bring her back around.

"Please, Miss Elizabeth, don't cry," he said in a low voice as he gently wiped away her tears with his thumb. How it pained him to see her cry.

Elizabeth tore herself away from his contact and walked to the other side of the room, silently pacing back and forth. After watching her for a few brief moments, Darcy ventured to say what he wanted to.

"Miss Bennet, although you are betrothed, you are not yet married. If your affections are what mine are for you, it is not too late to back out of your engagement."

"No," came Elizabeth's resolute answer. She could not afflict upon Matthew the pain she knew so well. It would be heartless and cruel for him to suffer from the consequences of another being's folly. No, she would not allow that to happen under her power—not even if it meant sacrificing her own sake of happiness.

"Do you not love me anymore?" Darcy asked, his voice confused as his eyes searched Elizabeth's with stricken worry and anxiety.

"No," Elizabeth closed her eyes and forced herself to say, as more tears cascaded and slid down her cheeks.

Silence fell between them as Elizabeth's monosyllabic answer painfully drilled into Darcy's understanding. He was surprised at how much pain the uttering of a single word could bring forth. In vain, he sought to question her further.

With a hoarse voice, he asked, "Do you not feel anything for me—not even in the slightest?"

Elizabeth heavily sighed and turned her head.

"I have forgotten you once, and I can do it again."

"Forgotten me? Surely you must have remembered something between us. Surely I am not the only one with these—these feelings."

Elizabeth tilted her head and gazed up at Darcy. "No Sir, my feelings for you are not what they were two years ago."

"But that could have been us, Eliza—Miss Bennet!" Darcy cried out of desperation, losing hold of his own composure.

"What?" asked Elizabeth, unsure of what he spoke of.

"Your sister and Charles," he impatiently said, clenching his fists as he took a deep breath to control himself. "Happily married, forever to live with the one they love," he added, his voice growing much softer.

"Yes, that could have been us, Mr. Darcy," Elizabeth started, stepping closer to Darcy to look him in the eye. "That could have been us," she repeated again, her sad eyes meeting his distressed ones. Blinking a tear from her eye, she sighed and finished.

"That could have been us, when there was me and you."

Darcy gazed at Elizabeth and nodded. He understood. It was not in his power to make her love him. If such were her wishes, he would have to abide by them. Overcome by mixed emotions, he leaned forward, wanting more than ever to kiss her; his eyes falling upon her eyes, face, and lips. He bit his own lips and longingly glanced at her again before turning around to walk out of the room. Upon reaching the doorknob, he turned and looked at Elizabeth one last time.

"We are so close," he said with an unsteady and raspy voice, "So close, and yet so far."

Elizabeth was left standing in the room as she stared after him with a hazel pair of tearful eyes.

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a/n: Alas! They have sorted out their issues, but an even bigger one is left unresolved. Please review! Your reviews will encourage me to continued writing--I have been so busy lately. 


	15. Grasping onto Hope

a/n: wow. i somehow decided to neglect my studies and write this in a single sitting--an update so soon that even i myself am surprised. aren't you proud of me? haha jk. anyways, this chapter's short, but it's supposed to be. i hope you like it!

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Three handsome carriages stood by each other as the occupants stepped in after exchanging well wishes. Upon the insistence of Charles for a more comfortable ride, Mama and Kitty were to ride in one carriage; Papa, Mary, and Elizabeth in the other; and Darcy in the third. The parting had left a very satisfied Mrs. Bennet, who apparently still took great ecstasy in her daughter's successful marriage. However, the parting also drew Elizabeth to the verge of tears as the two sisters embraced before one was forced to climb into the carriage. Two partings in one day were too much to bear. 

Before the carriage left, Elizabeth took one more look around Netherfield. Its master and mistress stood in front of Netherfield's pathway, waving as they sent off their remaining guests. Neither Darcy nor Caroline Bingley was in sight. Away from Darcy's presence, Elizabeth comforted herself by thinking that their parting was for the better. How it was for the better, she did not know; and only through continuous psychological persuasion did she manage to convince herself that a right choice had been made. As the carriage began to pull away from Netherfield, Elizabeth numbly sat in her seat, idly staring out the coach.

Normally, in a time like this, Jane would quickly detect her sister's dramatic shift in behavior and would readily be upon her with concerned queries. However, Jane's lack of presence in addition to Mr. Bennet's usual detachment allowed Elizabeth to sulk her way back to Longbourn unnoticed. Elizabeth was glad that none in her family had noticed her change in behavior, and although an observation or two was made at her lack of comment in conversations, she managed to pass by the rest of the day in peaceful silence.

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As Elizabeth and her family prepared for their departure, Darcy proceeded to find Caroline Bingley. He found her taking a stroll on a path that looped once around the Netherfield estate. Caroline saw Darcy from the corner of her eye, but decided to go on as if she had not seen him. However, after hearing rapid footsteps approach her, she could not help but turn around with a flutter of anxiety, wondering why Darcy would approach her in such a manner. 

Caroline looked up to meet Darcy's eyes. His cold and stony gaze bore into her and she tried as hard as she could to keep from wincing.

"What did you tell Miss Elizabeth last night?" he inquired with a brusque tone that hinted of annoyance and anger.

"Why, Mr. Darcy, how lovely it is to see you. I decided to take a lovely stroll on this lovely sunny day. Isn't the snow just beautiful? How well it reflects the sun, glimmering in the most gorgeous manner? Is not winter the loveliest of all—"

"Answer me, Miss Bingley," Darcy said, his demanding voice threatening to go past its threshold of propriety.

Stopped abruptly from finishing her statement, Caroline's face automatically contorted. Her face fell and her giddy disposition was no more.

"Mr. Darcy, not even a proper greeting to ask me how I am today?" she shot back, challenging Darcy in her deliberate attempt to ignore answering his question again.

"It is not wise to trifle with me, Miss Caroline."

Caroline eyed Darcy and her eyes narrowed. He had come for something about Elizabeth, meaning something must have happened in the morning. She was determined to find out first before answering Darcy, for she knew that he would take his leave as soon as she answered him.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Darcy? You complexion appears to be awfully pale. Did Miss Elizabeth dare to trifle with you again? How odious that woman's character is. It is as if she lives for the mere pleasure of taking great joy at another's misery."

Darcy grunted, his own composure falling rapidly as his flicker of annoyance increased and threatened to let loose his temper.

"Never in my presence or knowledge, will you ever speak of Miss Elizabeth Bennet as poorly as you did now. Am I understood?" he coldly questioned, surprised at his own quick line of defense for Elizabeth.

Caroline bit her tongue and turned her head, refusing to answer Darcy's question. Darcy chose to ignore Caroline and continue on.

"During my stay in Italy, I have written letters to Miss Elizabeth, some of which you offered to help me deliver. Miss Bennet has informed me that she has not received a single one. How do you suppose this could be?"

Caroline's face flushed red. So Elizabeth had talked to Darcy in the morning after all. And now, Darcy had come to interrogate her.

"I do not know," she answered, concluding that it would benefit her most to say the least, lest her tongue accidentally slipped.

"Tell me the truth—I will find out sooner or later."

"Are you accusing me, Mr. Darcy? That my offers to help you deliver some of your letters during the times that you were most busy are now being used against me? I would advise you to stop being so accusatory, for if you approached any other woman lower than my well-bred nature in this manner, she would take this into utmost offence and refuse to be in your acquaintance any longer," Caroline responded, her last statement said with an elevated sense of triumph as she believed that it would discipline Darcy's demanding and reproachful attitude.

Darcy understood that Caroline would never admit to being the source of interference, though her uneasy composure and refusal to readily answer him only added to his suspicions. Concluding that he would solve the matter in another way, he responded to her statement with as much civility as his ill temper allowed.

"Any woman in my acquaintance of whom I have sufficient evidence to set accusations such as these upon is not one that I would want to associate with myself."

His retort left Caroline wordless. Before turning around to return to the manor, he saw Caroline's face drain of all color as she stood and stared at him. With a curt nod, he excused himself and retired from her vile presence.

Returning to Netherfield, he quickly gathered his belongings and was ready to leave for Pemberley. He wanted to confirm the reason of his missing letters and wanted Elizabeth to know of it. He wanted nothing more than Elizabeth's knowledge of his loyalty, sincerity, and love for her. At least then, they would part with his sentiments correctly addressed and understood without a trace of doubt.

Darcy sat in the carriage as thoughts clouded his mind. Throughout his life, he hardly allowed himself to hope, though during one of the rare times he did, Elizabeth became his for a short time. As Pemberley came into view, Darcy remembered the last time Elizabeth was there with her Aunt and Uncle. He eyed the path he remembered to have caught them walking on so long ago, his heart pounding and stomach twisting into knots he never imagined possible before he was able to emerge and offer his proper greetings. Darcy let out a small smile as he thought of the recollection. How a woman like Elizabeth could ever send his emotions into such a chaotic overdrive, he would never know.

As he stepped out of the carriage and into the welcoming arms of his sister, Darcy turned his head back and eyed the path again. One day, Elizabeth would be there walking alongside him. One day, and everyday. His heart filled with a strong determination to win her back, to earn her respect, and for her to love him as she once did. Before pulling out of the embrace and drawing his attention back to his beaming sister, Darcy allowed himself loosen his desperate yearn and release his hopes of reuniting with Elizabeth.

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a/n: as always, reviews greatly appreciated! from now on for a few chapters, elizabeth and darcy will be separated. i'm still debating on whether or not i will write their perspectives in separate and alternating chapters, or have them alternate within the chapter like this one. hrm. suggestions? 


	16. A Sense of Character

Darcy wearily glanced down at his desk. In the time he had been gone, tasks were left to be completed and many affairs resolutely stood in an intimidating stacked pile on his desk. Darcy sighed. He had no motivation to tend to his business; no desire to monitor the progress of his trades. In the last month, he had mostly been preoccupied with tracing and perusing the records of Rome's mail station. He had sent his trusted butler and messenger to attain copies of the records to scrutinize. Although the officials were initially reluctant on handing them such intimate records, it was Darcy's famous and well-revered family name that allowed Darcy to become the proprietor of such effects. Upon their return, Darcy had been searching through pages upon pages of mailing history.

After closely examining the papers for countless amounts of time, Darcy was convinced that none of his letters had even made it out of Rome's mailing station. He had written her so many letters—it was impossible for him to have missed the records of all of them. Subsequently following his repeated scrutiny, he was beginning to even memorize the torrent of letters from several exchanging acquaintances. Darcy had originally thought that the letters may have been diverted after their initial mailing, but was extremely surprised that no records of the letters even being mailed existed.

He furrowed his brow as no thought of how such a thing was possible came to his mind. Evidently, the postal office had nothing to do with the affair, so such a misplacement of letters could only be blamed on the interchange between hands. And now that he thought of it, the letters did switch hands. A few times too many, Caroline Bingley had offered to deliver his letters to the mailing office, claiming that he was either too tired or busy to do so himself. Such a dull trip to the mail office was not something he should waste his time on, she said.

Darcy narrowed his eyes. _Certainly Miss Bingley could be the grand culprit behind this entire affair. _The more Darcy pondered on the possibility, the more it all seemed to make sense. But how was he to draw such a confession from her? Surely she would never confess to being the one responsible for such acts. She would sooner marry a penniless man than admit a wrongdoing on her part. Darcy stared out the window with his chin rested on his hand in a contemplative manner.

Perhaps a threat? No, that was too ungentlemanly. He could not commit such acts with a clear conscience on a woman. But then again—what would force Caroline's mouth open for a confession? What would trigger her to explain herself honestly and properly?

After another hour of contemplative scheming, Darcy concluded that Caroline needed to be present in order to execute his plan. It was a simple enough plan, and if devised properly, would very likely catch Caroline's flaw of personality and induce her profession. A knock interrupted Darcy's thoughts as he absentmindedly told the person standing outside to enter. When the door opened, a very flustered Mrs. Reynolds stood in the entrance.

"Pray, what has caused your urgent state of manner and appearance?" Darcy questioned, concerned that his housekeeper's usual calm disposition had been replaced with an agitated one.

"Sir," Mrs. Reynolds winced, "Your aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh awaits you in the sitting room."

"What business has she here?" Darcy grimaced at the unexpected arrival of her aunt.

"I know not for sure, Mr. Darcy, but she has brought her daughter Miss de Bourgh with her."

"Anne?" he questioned, his eyebrows raised at the thought. His cousin Anne had always been far too weak to travel. It had been years since she last made an appearance at Pemberley. How peculiar for her to make such an entrance at Pemberley with her mother unless—

"Mr. Darcy?" inquired the housekeeper, signaling to the door.

"Oh yes, thank you, Mrs. Reynolds." Darcy snapped back from his thoughts and speculations and made his way to the parlor.

When he stepped into the room, his aunt and cousin were already seated. Beside them was Georgiana. Darcy gave a polite bow and greeted his aunt and cousin with as much civility has he could.

"Dear aunt and cousin, what a pleasure it is for you to be joining us at Pemberley this morning," he amiably offered, taking care that his tone resonated in a cheerful mood.

Lady Catherine pursed her lips as her daughter gave a meek response to Darcy's greeting.

"Enough of the salutations," she harshly spoke. "Allow me to speak my mind. You are how old now, Fitzwilliam? And surely a fine and eligible bachelor such as yourself should be greatly looking into the prospect of marriage?"

Darcy rigidly stood and his body tensed. A demanding request and urge to marry from his aunt was the last thing he wanted to hear. He knew his aunt would continue onwards if he remained silent, so he opted to speak his mind.

"I assure you now that marriage is in my future, dear Aunt, though it is not what I wish for at the moment," he replied.

Lady Catherine's eyes bore into her nephew's as she repulsed his statement.

"You are young now, but you will not remain young forever. The sooner you marry the better. The sooner you can secure an heir, the better it is for the family. Besides, Georgiana could do with another female companion, and I aim to bring her one she is already quite acquainted with," Lady Catherine finished as she fondly eyed her daughter.

"My dear Lady, I am sure than I can make these decisions quite well myself, though I appreciate your efforts to help," Darcy forced himself to say, his tone growing colder and more indifferent by the minute.

"You, my nephew, make these choices by yourself?" she scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. "Might I draw to your attention to the very unsuitable and impertinent match between you and that Miss Bennet?"

Darcy breathed heavily. He knew Elizabeth was going to be brought up in the conversation sooner or later.

"Now I have no say of who your friend Mr. Bingley decides to marry, but I daresay I have a justifiable right to take the matters of your marriage into my own hands. But I suppose the matters of that little insolent and cheeky Miss Bennet and her intolerable family is of no greater concern as she is engaged herself to be married—and a good thing too!" she triumphantly declared, having always wanted to rid of the girl after their last unpleasant conversation in which she left in a state of inflamed temper and uproar.

Darcy resisted his rising temptation to storm out of the room. In a cool voice, he said, "I beg you not to speak so ill of Miss Bennet's family. They have done nothing to warrant such a harsh censure of words."

"I am not here to argue with you about Miss Bennet, Fitzwilliam. She is not worth my time to be thought after," Lady Catherine said with a flip of her hand. "I have more important matters to be concerned with. Now, my dear Anne here would make you a suitable wife. The combining of our lineages would suffice in the most ideal manner."

Darcy eyed his pitiful cousin sitting with her head cast toward the floor next to her mother.

"Anne here has quite a few things she would like to tell you for herself. I doubt you can be heartless enough to refuse and reject such a dear child. Go on, child, tell your fiancé of your thoughts," Lady Catherine urged, gently prodding her daughter.

"I am not her fiancé," Darcy harshly shot back with narrowed eyes.

"Hush Fitzwilliam, where have your manners gone? A woman is talking—and a well-refined woman at that," his aunt scolded, casting a glare at her nephew.

Anne turned to her mother and in a soft voice asked, "Mama, these are matters that only Fitzwilliam and I will converse about. Would it please you to give us a few minutes alone?"

Lady Catherine eyed her daughter. She seemed to have understood that a conversation between the two cousins would be far more productive without her sitting beside them. Surely Anne's good nature and charm would be enough to persuade her impertinent nephew.

"Yes, dear, I suppose it would not hurt to leave you alone for a few moments. Call on me when you are done Anne," she replied and promptly left the room.

After she left with Georgiana, who had sat silently throughout the entire conversation, Darcy and Anne were left in a dreadful silence. Neither knew what to say to each other and both breathed heavily in each other's presence.

Darcy eyed Anne expectantly and waited for her to speak.

"I have as much intention to marry you as you have to marry me," she bluntly said, looking up at Darcy.

Surprised to hear his usual quite and submissive cousin talk in such a harsh and brusque tone, Darcy's eyes widened in response. After a moment of recovery, he spoke.

"It is good that an understanding has come between us on that part, although it would do your mother tremendous good to comprehend that idea," he replied.

"Good, so you are not interested in me."

Darcy eyed his cousin suspiciously, confused by her statement. Choosing his words carefully, he replied.

"I am the not the man who can give you the happiness you deserve, Anne. For us to be married would be—"

"The most unfortunate love story to ever come across this world," she finished for him with a gentle and knowing look.

"You love her, Fitzwilliam. I have seen the two of you together. Such a perfect couple you both make. Ignore my mother completely and disregard her. I have tried dissuading her to make an appearance here. She would not hear of such a thought. But now that we have settled on mutual opinions, I will go back to her and confront her. Do not worry, dear cousin, this matter will solved in my own hands."

Never before had Darcy felt so much gratitude towards his cousin. Although Anne had always been rather submissive to her mother as to the voices of all others, he was glad to see that some resoluteness and determination marked her character.

"Thank you so much, Anne. I offer you my greatest thanks," he responded, sighing in relief that Anne was by far the easier person to negotiate with.

Anne gave her cousin a quick curtsey and a small smile before retiring from the room. Darcy sank into a chair, closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead wearily. He was going to stay rooted in his chair as he was sure than his enraged aunt would come bounding down the stairs soon enough.

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a/n: sorry if the update was a bit slower. against my better judgement, i started a new fic (modern retelling of P&P) and that kept me occupied for a while. anyways, i hoped you enjoyed this chapter. reviews appreciated! 


	17. Foreshadow

Darcy and Georgiana sat expectantly in the sitting room. Soon enough, the Bingleys were to arrive. He rubbed his eyes, still a bit tired from last week's excursion. After Anne had gone to speak with her mother, Lady Catherine was left in a highly tempered state. She refused to leave Pemberley's premises and stationed herself for nearly a week in hopes that her tantrum would soften Darcy's rigidly set mind. Finally accepting the fact that Darcy really had not a single interest upon her daughter, she left after casting a flurry of reprimands and ill-wishes at her nephew.

"I wish you the very best during their visit, brother," Georgiana said with an earnest look at Darcy.

Darcy drew his attention to his little sister and gave her a half smile. He sighed.

"If only there was an easier way to opening Caroline's mouth, I would not have to go through this task of inviting her to our home. I apologize for her presence, sister; for I know you are not very fond of her."

Georgiana pleasantly shook her head and spoke.

"Dear brother, do not worry about me. I shall have Mr. and Mrs. Bingley to accompany me. It was wise of you to extend your invitations primarily to them, I think. Miss Bingley needed no invitation as she will naturally come along unless you verbally spoke against it."

Darcy's eyebrows arched at his sister's comment. At times, his sister's observance surprised him. Although she was often shy, he often discovered that her reticence never eluded her subtle wit and intelligence.

Georgiana's assumptions were correct. Darcy had initially invited Charles and Jane to Pemberley and soon received a letter with Charles asking for the suitability to bring his sister along. Apparently, she was in dire need to see Georgiana again. Darcy was pleased to answer the predicted question as he intended for Caroline to come. He did not want to extend an invitation specifically to her, for he did not want to cause another false inflammation to her ego.

Darcy nodded thankfully towards his sister just as Mrs. Reynolds entered the room.

"The Bingleys are here, Sir," she curtseyed.

"Please bring them in," Darcy replied, standing up from his seat. Across from him, Georgiana did the same as they both stood to receive their guests.

Charles entered the room first with Jane by his side, trailing behind them a very formally dressed Caroline. She wore a red dress made of silk with her hair up in an elegant bun as she strode with great dignity into the room. Darcy politely bowed and Georgiana graciously curtseyed at their entrance.

"Charles, my dear friend, I daresay that you are looking very well," Darcy spoke as Charles returned a broad smile. Turning to Jane, he addressed her.

"Mrs. Bingley, I hope that you are doing well."

"Oh yes, I am very well, thank you for asking, Mr. Darcy," Jane responded with a smile and a curtsey.

Darcy turned his head to see Caroline embracing her sister as Georgiana stiffly returned her greeting.

"And your sister Miss Elizabeth? How does she fare?" Darcy ventured to question, casting a quick glance back at Jane.

"Oh, Lizzy—she—she is fine. A bit more quiet and reserved than her usual self, but I suppose it because of the approaching wedding. I believe she will resume her spirited nature in due time."

Darcy tensed. "Oh, yes, the wedding."

No more was said on the subject as Jane perceived Darcy's manner and face to harden with a somber look at the mention of her sister's near wedding. Darcy proceeded to order Mrs. Reynolds to show the Bingleys to their rooms. Although Charles and Jane followed obediently to their guest chambers, Caroline lingered behind, claiming that she knew Pemberley well enough to find her room on her own. Georgiana caught her brother's eye and excused herself from the room, leaving Darcy and Caroline alone.

"Mr. Darcy, how beautiful Pemberley is in the winter. Such wonderful scenery and landscape. I simply adore its current state. How lucky it is to rise and see such a beautiful and glorious sight every day," she remarked, walking about the room as she pretended to glance thoughtfully out the window. Elizabeth and he were separated now, and she was going to make the most of it.

"I thank you for that thoughtful comment, Miss Bingley. Few appreciate Pemberley's cold grounds during the winter—I myself often overlook its beauty. I have the pleasure of seeing it everyday that its sight is rather becoming mundane in my opinion," Darcy responded, forcing himself to appear interested in the woman before her.

"Mundane?" Caroline laughed. "Never. These are the particulars one must always enjoy in life—the little yet significant details. If only Netherfield has grounds this beautiful, I would be content to stay there forever."

"Certainly you cannot speak the truth, Miss Bingley. For even if Netherfield appealed to your ideals, you certainly must leave it for marriage someday," Darcy continued in an attempt to grasp conversation with her. It was through conversation, he believed, that his plan would execute the best.

"And you are lucky, Mr. Darcy to not have to move if you are to marry. In addition, the fortunate woman you marry will be the one residing in grounds such as these. I can only but imagine what being mistress of such grounds can be like," she said, skillfully etching her face to one that depicted innocence and childlike wonder.

"If you love the grounds so much, Miss Bingley, you would not object to taking a stroll with me about Pemberley tomorrow? It would be too late now, with tea and dinner soon, but I believe tomorrow's weather will be as promising as today's was," Darcy offered.

Caroline's eyes flickered with a flustered gleam as her face softly blushed. Never had Darcy offered to walk with her or bring up the subject of marriage. It was always she who invited herself along, and she who initiated those conversations. Now, she thought hopefully, perhaps he had finally taken a liking to her.

"Why thank you, Mr. Darcy. I would enjoy that," she responded, drawing closer to Darcy, her eyes greedily surveying his handsome face.

A couple moments later, footsteps drew near the room as Charles and Jane emerged. Darcy led his guests out of the room and settled with them to tea. That night, he carried on conversations with Caroline and approached her with stiff, but becoming friendliness. Caroline in turn loosened herself up to him and took the opportunity to flirt shamelessly back at him. Jane and Charles exchanged curious glances throughout the night, but Georgiana put in her best efforts to keep the couple distracted with her performances on the piano forte.

* * *

Elizabeth stared at her plate. The eggs and bread were getting cold along with her cup of warm milk. She had no appetite to eat—and had not had one for a good many days. Her frame had grown thinner and she looked more a bit paler. Hearing her father's voice, she looked up from her plate and directed her attention to him. 

"Lizzy, do not occupy yourself with starvation. You will still look beautiful in your wedding dress with the weight you have lost these couple of days. Do eat up," her father urged after casting an amused glance at his daughter, dumping another spoonful of scrambled eggs onto her plate.

Elizabeth reluctantly picked up her fork and aimlessly scooped around the contents of her plate.

"Lizzy, dear, eat your breakfast. You are not leaving this table until you are entirely finished. Mr. Tennyson does not want to marry a skeletal figure. You nearly resemble a twig, look at you. Do stop torturing my nerves. You know that I cannot handle it if Mr. Tennyson refuses to marry you because of your appaling figure," added her mother, pushing the plate of food closer to her daughter. "Do listen to me, Lizzy," her mother whined across the table, not bothering to lower her voice. "You cannot afford to lose any more of your chest. You resemble a flat ironing board. Now that would please no one on your wedding night."

Mr. Bennet emitted a light chuckle before getting up to excuse himself. He sighed and scratched his neck before lazily stretching his arms above his head.

"I do believe the cold weather has gotten a hold of me," he declared with a slightly irritated look.

"Papa, are you feeling all right?" ask Elizabeth, automatically rising from her chair. "Do we need to call for a doctor?"

Mr. Bennet smiled and glanced at his daughter. "No, Lizzy, I shall be fine. It is just a cold. And like what I recalled your mother to say a couple years past, no one dies from the common cold. I shall feel better, however, if you ate your food. If you need me, I'll be resting in my room," he announced before leaving the dining room.

Mrs. Bennet sighed. "That man shall be the death of me. Oh, I ought to tell the cooks to prepare some chicken broth for his fragile state of health. Oh the sorrow if he were to die now—we cannot afford that. Three of you are yet to marry," she hastily continued before hurrying off to the kitchen.

Elizabeth slowly ate her food, lost in thought. She had received a letter from Jane the day before, telling her of her visit to Pemberley—the visit that ultimately included Caroline Bingley. Elizabeth felt a surge of jealousy rise up at the thought of Caroline's current state of acquaintance with Darcy. She was surprised by her own jealousy, for she had never allowed herself to envy a person such as Caroline. She knew Darcy held no interest for Caroline, but in the current state of affairs, her presence around him was enough to foster jealousy nevertheless. After all that had happened, Elizabeth still found herself wanting to be the one alongside Darcy. It was going to be the start of another along day at Longbourn.

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a/n: as always, please review. im wondering whether or not i should focus on elizabeth a bit more as i have been currently ignoring her POVand focusing more than darcy's. 


	18. To Her Own Demise

a/n: yes, it's horrible that i've taken this long to update; but yes, i've also written a longer chapter

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"Lizzy, dear, are you finished with your food? Mr. Tennyson is calling on you. Hurry up, dear, he awaits you in the sitting room," cried Mrs. Bennet, hurrying into the dining hall to usher her daughter out. 

"Mr. Tennyson? So early in the morning?" Elizabeth asked, her brows forming into a quizzical look.

"Yes, your husband to be. Pray, Lizzy, do hasten to meet him."

Elizabeth softly groaned before leaving the room to greet him. She was not in the mood of being in anyone's company. She wearily walked into the room and curtseyed at her fiancé.

"Why are you so conventional this morning, my dear Elizabeth?" Matthew smiled, his eyes following Elizabeth's movements with a flicker of amusement. "Since when did you become so proper in greeting your beloved? Do I not get a proper greeting that thoroughly justifies your true disposition?"

Elizabeth gave him an uneasy smile and stepped forward to embrace him. "Why of course, Matthew."

Catching the strained tone in her voice, he immediately questioned her.

"Are you not feeling well, my dear? You seem thinner and paler since I last saw you."

Shaking her head, Elizabeth waved away his statement and assured him that she was fine. Matthew scanned her with a searching look, but deigned it best not to speak his mind. A heavy silence fell between the couple as both failed to speak of things that would fill the silent pause. After a few moments, Matthew decided to try his luck.

"We must see to the wedding preparations more now, dearest. It is to take place in a little less than a month. We must finalize guest invitations and see to your wedding gown. Of course, I am waiting for Mr. Bingley to return, for he promised to offer me some advice," he stated, curiously glancing to see how Elizabeth reacted.

Elizabeth responded in a congenial manner and politely addressed all of Matthew's ideas and propositions. However, as the conversation carried on, she found herself to be in dull company. Matthew's eyes had not the flicker and light of Darcy's, and his spirit was similarly more dampened. No waves of excitement coursed through her body when his eyes met hers. Instead, his tender gaze upon her seemed to ricochet and bounce right back to the admirer. She felt no quickening of her heart, no flush of crimson upon her cheeks, no tremor of her body when his touch met hers. She addressed him as she would to any of her acquaintances and spoke to him with as much fervor as she would to Charles Bingley.

The absence of Elizabeth's usual enthusiasm drew Matthew into a significantly more distressed state. Her spirit around him had been declining steadily during the last few weeks. Matthew grew disconcerted as the moments between them started to draw out and leave in between them wide gaps of uncomfortable silence.

It was in his knowledge that Darcy had once courted Elizabeth long ago—Charles had told him that. However, it was also in his knowledge that the two did not end on happy terms. He had closely observed the interactions between them and found little that would alarm him. Elizabeth and Darcy spoke to each other in manners none other than amiability. Still, he had raised his awareness level by closely surveying his fiancée's interactions. Of all things that could happen, he did not want to lose her—not now.

Their conversation was soon broken by a very distressed and panicky Mrs. Bennet. When the door to the sitting room flung open with a loud bang, Elizabeth turned around in anxiety. For her mother to interfere during her socializing with any member of the opposite sex was a very rare occurrence that took place when only urgent matters happened. She only recalled it happening only once before, when her acquaintance with Darcy was broken after her mother entered the room to announce that Kitty had fainted after running headfirst into a tree. Elizabeth chuckled to herself, remembering how Kitty's desperate attempt to keep up with a group of marching soldiers triggered such a collision. However, her expression immediately sobered upon looking at her mother's worried face.

Before Elizabeth had time to question her mother's disheveled appearance, Mrs. Bennet spoke.

"Lizzy, your father is very ill. I only went upstairs to check on him a few moments ago and found that his forehead is _burning_." Mrs. Bennet's hand flew up to her forehead as she dramatically delivered the news.

At first, Elizabeth believed her mother to be over exaggerating. Mrs. Bennet had always been paranoid of any chance pertaining to her husband's death and often worried herself at the slightest signs of his discomfort or sickness. Not too long ago, Mr. Bennet appeared to be fine during breakfast, with only a slight hint of a tired body from a lack of sleep. Wanting to check on him herself, Elizabeth quickly excused herself and hastened upstairs to her father's chamber.

When she opened the door, she saw her father, feverishly tossing and turning in bed. The sight of him frightened her, and she quickly strode over to his fathers side and took his hand.

"Papa? Are you alright? It's Elizabeth—Lizzy. Papa? Answer me, please" she pleaded, her eyes scanning her father's face for any sign of his response.

Her father only groaned and tossed again in his bed. Elizabeth's hand shot up to her father's forehead and she gasped when she felt the heat that radiated off of his face. Her mother was right; her father's temperature was indeed unreasonably high. Alarmed, Elizabeth turned and dashed back down the stairs and into the room. Panting slightly, she looked to her mother.

"Mama, we must call for the doctor at once!"

Matthew walked up to Elizabeth and gently settled his hands on her shoulders. His hand gently settled her face and tilted her face towards him.

"Do not alarm yourself, Lizzy. I will go and send for a doctor immediately. Leave it to me." After another brief look to assure his fiancée, Matthew was out the door and upon on his horse, riding swiftly into town.

Elizabeth walked back upstairs and collapsed by her father's side after setting a cool towel on his forehead. Kneeling beside the bed, she closed her eyes and felt the weight of the world drop upon her. Life had abandoned her in the middle of a bumpy road, and she had no choice but to walk on it.

Watching her father sleep, she let her thoughts roam away from her as they settled for the umpteenth time that day on the man she sorely missed. The last time she had met Darcy seemed like ages ago; it felt like their separation had unduly repeated itself. She remembered the last time they were together, in her guest chambers back at Netherfield. It was probably the last time she would ever see him in a long while. Elizabeth highly doubted that he would attend her wedding. It was unlike Darcy to intrude upon unnecessary details. Even if he did choose to attend, correspondences held between them would have to be nothing but civil and amiable greetings that embodied naught but a mere existence of friendship.

As much as she hated to admit, she missed everything about him. The way his lips quirked in amusement, the way he tossed his head back to let out his low yet uplifting laugh, the way his enticing smile would edge up and form gentle creases along the corners of his mouth. She missed the way he looked at her—the tender gaze that could bring them together from any distance; the glance that froze and chased away all her thoughts, gifted with the ability to stop the passing of all time.

She drew her thoughts back to Matthew. He had done so much for her out of love and was as ideal a companion to what any woman could ask for. But no matter how much Elizabeth dwelled upon her feelings toward him, she could not help but realize that something was missing between them. She knew it was a void that only she felt, for Matthew looked at her just as Darcy did; though try as she might, she could not bring herself to exert the same amount of feeling for him. With this, she was greatly distressed, for she knew not how she was to stay a lifetime alongside him. She wanted to explain her feelings to him and let him know everything she felt within her mind, but she did not have the courage to do so. And for that, Elizabeth despised herself.

Never before had she felt so powerless to possess dominance over the due courses in her life. She recalled accusing Darcy of being faint-of-heart in the midst of all the affairs. To her great disgust, she was now as much a coward as he was, miserable and helpless in her own inability to articulate her thoughts.

Elizabeth stopped herself in her thinking and turned back to concentrate on her father. He was no longer mumbling in his sleep, but his fever had not subsided. His cheeks were bright red and his breathing was uneven. She took a hold of her father's warm hand and closed her eyes to utter a quick prayer. A few moments later, the door opened and a physician dressed in a black suit walked in with a briefcase. After the two exchanged greetings, Elizabeth reluctantly stepped out the door to wait as the doctor began to examine her father.

* * *

Darcy walked aimlessly in the garden with Caroline, though the walk for Caroline was far from being pointless—she was thoroughly enjoying herself. Commenting on everything from the brightly shining sun to the snow covered trees, Caroline rambled onwards about every subject that crossed her mind.

Her sense of false giddiness and wit irritated Darcy and he strove with great efforts to keep his disposition amiable. It surprised him in the magnitude how he had been able to withstand her for the past two days. He suspected that his determination of confirming his suspicions for the missing letters kept the poor side of his humor at bay.

As their walk continued, Caroline began to slowly edge closer and closer to him. Initially, he avoided her and leaned towards the opposite direction, causing both of them to divert from the footpath. However, he concluded that distance and a closer proximity might actually benefit the situation. Darcy grimaced as Caroline made another attempt to brush his shoulder and succeeded. Surprised that Darcy had not moved away from her, she only drew even closer to him.

"Mr. Darcy," she playfully eyed him. "Why are you allowing me to take a walk alongside you this morning? Would not another woman disapprove of my actions?"

Darcy hid the disgusted look on his face by swiftly turning his head, pretending to eye the scenery around him.

"I know not which woman you speak of," he replied after shifting his face back to its previously blank expression, eyeing her for any change of appearance on her face.

"I am surprised to say that Miss Elizabeth is not the first on your mind today," she answered, a hint of a gloat written in her sly smile.

"Miss Elizabeth is to be married, and it would be improper to dwell on the thoughts of another's betrothed."

Caroline surveyed Darcy's face for any signs of emotion behind his nonchalant comment, but to her dismay found very little that she could decipher.

"Of course, she is engaged to Mr. Tennyson—how could I have forgotten. He is a man very well-fitted for her, his rank and prestige in society equally matches her. I daresay they make quite the couple—not too shabby or advantageous," Caroline said, especially emphasizing the part about Matthew's equal rank alongside Elizabeth's society.

It took Darcy all of his self-control to ignore the statement and speak of his next account.

"Elizabeth is well matched with Mr. Tennyson. To think how happy she will be as a married woman is what I bestow my sincerest blessings upon. I suppose I shall have to thank whatever got in the way of my letters since our separation led to the attainment of her happiness in life. Happiness is all I can wish for her."

"You are not angered at the disappearances of the letters?" Caroline immediately inquired without thought after hearing that Darcy did not mind the fact that his letters never got to their intended addressee.

"Disappearances?" Darcy asked as he tried to keep his face straight to pass the query along as a casual one.

"Well—you know—I mean…that if none of your letters had reached Elizabeth, they most likely just disappeared," Caroline quickly and ungracefully answered, clumsily stammering her way through her reply as she hoped that Darcy would buy into her response and drop the subject.

He did not.

"Letters to be mailed from post offices do not just disappear," came his solemn reply. His face hardened and he looked intently at Caroline.

If she were in front of anyone else but Darcy, Caroline could have slapped herself in the face. How could she be so careless as to use the word 'disappearances' in her answer and hint at the possibility that was in reality the truth? She tried to think of a way to dismiss the statement, but lost completely her train of thought when she looked up to see Darcy looking expectantly at her. His quick and immediate response left her no room to think. Caught off guard, Caroline nervously attempted to free herself from the debacle.

"Sometimes under certain consequences or happenings, the letters get lost or disappear. I do not know why, but I know it happens," she replied, wincing at the weakness of her answer.

"And I wonder under which particular consequences and situations those letters disappeared," Darcy mused back at her, his eyebrows skillfully shifting into a look of pure thought.

"Under peculiar…unexpected…," Caroline started, trailing off after she was unable to finish her statement. Instead, she decided to fire a question back at him. "Have you checked with the post office? The fault lies with them. You know as well as I that manual delivery services by hand are not to be trusted."

"Yes, I have already attained a list of all the records of the mailing records," Darcy started, before Caroline interrupted him with a curious yet apprehensive voice.

"How did you manage to get those effects? They are matters held in highest privacy."

Darcy waved away her statement. "I have my own ways, Miss Caroline, of attaining articles that I need to examine and scrutinize for myself."

A couple moments of silence passed between them as Caroline's heart quickened as chance of being exposed grew increasingly larger. She never thought that Darcy would have enough power to acquire a copy of mailing records and had always believed that he would assume the postal office to be at fault and drop the subject at that. But then again, she had forgotten the fact that Darcy was a man who never settled his affairs until he was presented with tangible and convincing evidence. The mess she started was beginning to untangle before her own eyes. What started out as an innocent question over a careless word usage was now reaching a catastrophic climax.

Not wanting to give Caroline anytime to conjure up ways to inch out of the conversation, Darcy spoke to her again.

"And what I find even more interesting is the fact that the records show no signs of the letters even being mailed. Isn't that something to think about?"

Caroline did not trust herself to speak and merely nodded. Darcy continued on.

"I need your help, Miss Caroline. I have thought of all possibilities and none of them had made the slightest bit of sense. I would very much be appreciated if your intuition and high-classed intelligence could help me determine the cause of the affair."

Caroline flushed slightly red—it was the first time Darcy had ever asked her for any type of help.

"Mr. Darcy, I must admit that I am very flattered to be of your assistance," Caroline responded, her mind in a state of joyous rapture that Darcy had come to her for an opinion.

With a feigned frown and a narrowing of her eyes, Caroline pretended to think, foolishly focusing too much on her appearance than on what she actually said. Before she knew it, the phrase spewed from her mouth.

"Perhaps someone did not want Miss Elizabeth to receive those letters," she said, her eyes soon widening in horror when she realized what she had just proposed.

"An interesting explanation, I must say. And who exactly would commit such an act, I wonder," Darcy calmly addressed, giving her a brief glance of amusement.

Caroline winced. Against her greatest hopes, Darcy had not ignored her statement. In fact, he seemed to wish for a continuation of the subject.

At Caroline's silence, Darcy ventured to put forth an even more blunt statement.

"Who on the side of Italy would want to stop my letters from reaching Miss Bennet?" Darcy queried, his eyebrows raised at Caroline.

Caroline stared at Darcy, not knowing what to say. "Let us not dwell on this speculation anymore, for clearly it is nonsensical. Excuse that possibility and allow me to offer you another one," she managed to answer, growing steadily uneasy as she wringed her hands and fidgeted with her dress.

Darcy waved away her proposition. "No—in fact, Miss Caroline, I am finding your conjecture to be highly possible. After all, you said so yourself that manual deliveries by hand are not to be trusted."

Caroline's face fell and she flushed vibrantly red. Her jaws fell agape and her eyes widened to the largest Darcy had ever seen them. It was clear to both that Caroline's facial expression had given her position away. Darcy's eyes gleamed knowingly as his suspicions were confirmed, and Caroline's mouth opening and closing silently furthermore confirmed the case.

"You did it, did you not?" he inquired with a soft yet unwavering voice, demanding Caroline for an honest answer.

There was not use in denying Darcy—she had already given herself away. Denying the fact without convincing evidence to extricate herself from the accusation was not attainable at the moment—she had not the time to make such things up. Caroline knew that Darcy would sever all connections from her if she continued on lying about the affair. She could not afford Darcy cutting ties from her—not when she was the most eligible woman for him now that Elizabeth was gone. She toyed with the thought that Darcy would understand her position and forgive her in due time. With that in mind, Caroline admitted it. Caroline closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

"Yes," came her answer as she looked down to the ground, afraid to meet Darcy's glance. She could already feel his gaze penetrate her entire body as they stared at her.

"And what did you do with those letters?"

Caroline narrowed her eyes. She did not want to give away the letters whereabouts, though she desperately wanted Darcy's forgiveness. Reluctantly, she answered him.

"They are in my chambers back at Netherfield."

Darcy's eyebrows arched. He was surprised that Caroline had neither thrown away the letters nor burned them. However, he was pleased to discover that his letters were still intact.

"Upon your return to Netherfield, I want you to send each and every one of my letters to Miss Elizabeth. I shall then write to Miss Bennet to see if she has received those letters in due time. Will you promise me that?"

Caroline stared at Darcy, aghast at his request. She began to question the extent that she wanted for his forgiveness and future acquaintance. To her dismay, the occurrences of future acquaintances weighed too heavily for her and she had no choice but to agree.

"Good now that these affairs are settled, I must ask you one last question. Why did you do so?"

Caroline softly groaned. Now what did he want? She racked her mind for a proper response. Finding it, she replied.

"Please, Mr. Darcy—I…I thought that separating you and Miss Elizabeth would be beneficial to both families. You were not suited to her, nor was she to you. Your social rankings are far too different and I believed Miss Elizabeth seemed indifferent to your affections. She did not even seem pained at your leave. I will not allow a woman after your fortune to draw into any given proximity that could potentially harm you," she answered with an innocent voice.

Darcy could not believe his ears. He had never believed that Caroline would be capable of being so vile. Although she had admitted to taking away the letters, she had done so by declaring the position Darcy had executed years ago. She had used Darcy's separating of Charles and Jane and applied it into her own position, twisting her deranged actions into good deeds. He most certainly was not going to let her get away with that.

"Really?" Darcy questioned, his voice unconvinced.

Caroline did not bother answer the question. Instead, she merely nodded and went straight on to asking for forgiveness.

"Mr. Darcy, if you take my actions to be offensive, please forgive me. I had only the best intentions for you and Miss Bennet. I hereby ask you for your kind forgiveness and offer you the sincerest of my apologies."

Darcy nearly snorted, but caught himself in the middle of it.

"Jealousy is a flaw to be pitied in one's character. It brings along all things unpleasant."

Upon hearing the statement, Caroline's eyes narrowed. She knew now that nothing ever got past Darcy. She stared at him, unable to speak.

"As for your apologies, I would suggest you to keep them to yourself. I cannot offer you my forgiveness and can only give my blessings that God will have mercy on your incorrigible behavior. My good opinion once gone is lost forever. Good day, Miss Caroline Bingley."

Darcy bowed and swiftly walked away, leaving Caroline standing out in the snow, her face bright red and distorted into a most revolting look. Upon walking back into the doors of Pemberley, he could not but triumphantly smile. Things had gone accordingly to his plan. Caroline had unintentionally let slip a few details and he had expanded the little loopholes into a confession and a promise that his letters would be returned to Elizabeth. Caroline had trapped herself and fell to her own demise.

However, his uplifting mood was short lived, for it was gone as soon as he stepped into the house of the manor. Jane sat in a stone-like manner, collapsed in an armchair, her eyes red with tears streaming down her face. Charles sat next to her, his head in his hands. Next to both on the coffee table was a white sheet of paper. Charles pointed to the letter and motioned for Darcy to read it.

Darcy read it, and his mouth dropped, aghast with what he had read. He took the seat across from Charles and resumed the position of his friend. Together, the three of them sat in a ghostly silence that haunted the room.

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a/n: please review while you still can...there are only a few chapters left of this. 


	19. Amazing Grace

a/n: sorry for the late update...certain things in life got in the way. read and review please! enjoy!

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When the door of Mr. Bennet's room opened, Elizabeth immediately stood up to face the physician. Mrs. Bennet hurried up the stairs with Matthew following closely behind. Lydia, Kitty, and Mary had also caught up with the situation and stood anxiously at the bottom of the stairs; the entire household quiet in anticipation, waiting for the doctor to speak his prognosis.

"Pneumonia," the doctor said, pushing his spectacles higher up to his eyes before he shrugged hopelessly.

"Pneumonia?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. "He is going to die, is he not?" she continued to whine, her arms hung loosely at her side, stomping on the ground as if she was protesting against fate itself.

"Mama!" Elizabeth admonished, her hands flying over to cover her mouth. "How can you say such a thing? Of course Papa is not going to die. It is nothing unheard of or serious—just a little common cold anyone can catch. Papa will recover in due time."

She looked over to the doctor for his consent. Her stomach took a sharp turn when she saw that he had no reassurance to offer her panicking mother.

"Papa will recover in due time," she repeated. "Correct?" She eyed the doctor with her eyebrows highly raised as if she dared the doctor to disagree with her.

The doctor did.

"What your father is suffering from, I cannot help with. I am sorry to say that he has little time left."

Elizabeth threw her arms up, disregarded the propriety women had to maintain around men at all times, and glared at him in disbelief.

"You cannot help with anything? What sort of doctor do you call yourself? My father was perfectly fine until this morning. I refuse to believe that a common cold can progress to its last stages in a few mere hours. It is impossible…unheard of! Matthew? Call for another physician. This one is ridiculous," she angrily retorted, pointing her finger straight at the doctor before dismissing him with a wave of her hand, a mixture of anger and fear rose within her.

Somebody was going to cure her father—somebody _had_ to.

The doctor bowed his head in deep sympathy, his voice quiet when he replied to Elizabeth, "You may call another physician if that be your wish…call another doctor or a hundred others, but my diagnosis will still be the same."

Elizabeth glared at the doctor and shook her head dismissively. Her father could not be dying. She drew her gaze to Matthew and raised her eyebrows, wanting him to send for another physician. Matthew, however, did not move.

"Elizabeth, there is no other doctor we can send for who is better than Mr. Rogers. Mr. Roger is the best doctor in town," he said with a distressed voice, sad eyes cast downwards at Elizabeth.

Ignoring what had been said, Elizabeth walked past her family and into her father's room. She went straight to his side and took his hand. Upon her touch, her father gently opened his eyes.

"Lizzy…my dear Lizzy," he breathed, smiling upwards at her with a fatigued expression of delightfulness upon seeing his daughter.

The rest of the family followed Elizabeth into the room and spread themselves around the bed, surrounding Mr. Bennet as each appeared by his side to pay their last respects.

Mrs. Bennet took one look at her husband her woeful cries echoed loudly throughout the room. She knelt on the other side of bed by her husband and put her hand over his forehead.

"My dear Mr. Bennet, you mustn't die now. Think of our girls yet to marry. Poverty! Destitution!" she sobbed, hiccupping between each exclamation. "Mr. Bennet, you are strong. You are old—but not that old. What are we to do without you?"

Elizabeth knelt quietly by her father, letting her mother's pained cries fill the room as silent tears found their way down her face. She could not bring herself to believe in her father's fate. Just this morning, he had been telling her with good humor to eat her breakfast. And a few short hours later, he was lying upon his deathbed, too weak to utter his words and condolences. It did not seem right for his health to disintegrate so quickly. It did not seem possible that a cold could take a turn for the worse in such a short period of time. It was unjust; it was unfair. Elizabeth scowled at providence and closed her eyes.

Man was born with the knowledge of life, not death. And Elizabeth could hardly imagine what lay ahead. Beyond the earthly boundaries of life was a spiritual dwelling in heaven with God. This, she knew.

She knew not, however, how life was planning to unveil itself after his death. A life without her father was something unimaginable and unforeseen. It lay ahead in a dark abyss, so dark that not even the brightest of her imaginations could light and reveal the tiniest source of knowledge. It was a hole, void and empty.

Moments passed as the family surrounded their beloved, each realizing that a member would soon depart earlier than the rest. Elizabeth shook her head bitterly. Jane would not be here for their father's last moments.

A choke and a wheeze caught Elizabeth's attention as her father opened his mouth and attempted to speak.

Mr. Bennet's head was turned toward his wife and Mrs. Bennet stopped weeping and looked at her husband.

"My dear Mrs. Bennet," he croaked between breaths, "Thank you for everything you have put forth for this family."

Mrs. Bennet's eyes glistened with tears as she attempted to return a weak smile. Even after all the years he had purposely challenged the limits of her nerves, Mrs. Bennet had always loved him. He had been her companion for over two decades, and their affections had long ago been established through the course of time. Despite his seemingly nonchalant attitude towards the prospective marriages of his daughters, he had been a good husband and father.

Mr. Bennet nodded at his wife's response and coughed once again. He lay still with his eyes closed for a couple moments, regaining his strength, his body and complexion pale and ghastly.

Elizabeth felt the hand she held tighten momentarily before she looked up to find her father bent towards her.

"Lizzy…dearest Lizzy," he rasped.

"Papa," Elizabeth returned, tears rolling down her face as it dawned upon her it would be one of the very last times she would ever say that word again.

"Do not weep, child. A dying old man is not worth your laments," he continued, a crooked smile etched across his face.

"Papa," Elizabeth choked, bowing her head onto her father's bed. Mr. Bennet withdrew his hand from his daughter's grasp and placed it gently upon her head, delicately stroking her hair.

"Lizzy, before I go to my Father's place, promise me one thing," he said, hardly above a whisper.

"Yes, Papa, anything," she responded, drawing her eyes up to meet her father's.

"Live a happy life. That is all I ask you to do for me," her father said, now drawing his attention to Matthew.

"Ah…Mr. Tennyson," he began, pausing as another cough stole away more of his decreasing strength. "You must promise me to give Lizzy the happiest life she will ever know. Promise me my dear Lizzy's happiness."

"Yes, Mr. Bennet, I can promise you that," Matthew responded eagerly, his face full of determination to complete the will set before him.

"Good…good…that is all," Mr. Bennet tiredly said, slowly closing his eyes again.

A few seconds passed with suspension, the occupants of the room holding their breaths. For a brief moment, everyone had thought Mr. Bennet had passed on.

A minute later, Mr. Bennet wearily opened his eyes again and glanced around at the family surrounding him.

"I love you all…so very much," he breathed, a content smile spreading over his face. In his bed, he looked ever so peaceful. He closed his eyes again and his breathing began to settle in once again.

Up and down, up and down, up and down.

Next to Elizabeth, Mary began to sing. Unlike her usual loud and provocative singing aimed to receive attention, her voice this time was soft and humble. Although her voice wavered unsteadily with emotions, the melody of her tune rang out into the air and lingered there, filling the somber silence in the room. It was of a hymn she sang; the hymn of Amazing Grace.

One after another, everyone, though hesitant at first, joined hands and began to sing. Elizabeth knew the hymn by heart—it was one of her very favorites. She sang with her eyes closed, letting the tune escape from the tip of her lips as it echoed into the air just long enough before the next note took its place. Harmonies and melodies entwined together to form peace and comfort, joining at cadences to release the tensions and emotions of it all.

Up and down, up and down, up and down.

Mr. Bennet's breaths grew steadily weaker, but his family's singing grew even stronger.

During that particular moment in time, everything seemed to freeze in motion as the picturesque silhouette of a family sending away their loved one quietly filled every corner of the room. Nothing in that room sounded sweeter than the plethora of melodies and harmonies unfolding itself in a musical line that spoke of a grieving family's farewell, revealing the intangible yet undeniable connection between music and life itself.

Up and down, up and down, up…

The singing stopped as abruptly as the breath had been unable to reach its completion. Everyone sucked in their breath as if they were holding it along with Mr. Bennet. After a few moments, it was clear that his risen chest would never fall, and his closed eyes would never open to see the light of day once more.

Tears trailed down Elizabeth's cheeks as the family began to weep. She sank to the floor and reached out to hold her father's cold hand. Closing her eyes, she lifted her head towards the ceiling and finished the last words to the song.

_Amazing grace, how sweet the sound…_

His time on Earth was due, and grace had led her father home.


	20. The Arrival

Darcy sat in his study, brows furrowed deep in concentration. Jane and Charles had already departed for Longbourn at the news of Mr. Bennet's sudden passing. Although Darcy was not closely acquainted with Mr. Bennet, he felt the loss just as much.

With Mr. Bennet's sudden death also came the inopportune matter of property inheritance. Darcy knew not if Mr. Collins would dawn sympathy on the Bennets and allow them to keep their stay at Longbourn. Although he was sure that Charles could temporarily provide the Bennets with a comfortable style of living, he knew that no such arrangement was to be of permanent standing.

He had hoped, of course, that Mr. Collin's wife would be able to persuade her husband into letting the Bennets reside on the property on behalf of her close friendship with Elizabeth. However, when Mr. Collin's conceited disposition was heavily considered, Darcy could never be too sure.

This was an urgent matter in which he could bear an ignorant stance, for it heavily tied in with Elizabeth's happiness. He knew that Elizabeth was in deep lament of her dear father's death, and he could only grieve with her for his absence alongside her. Rubbing his temples wearily with tired fingers, Darcy came to the one and only source that could be of his assistance.

Try as he might to go around his ill-fated conclusion, two words echoed persistently into the deep stretches of his mind: Lady Catherine. If he could persuade the Lady in any direction to his favor, there was no doubt that Mr. Collins would give in to his self-esteemed patroness.

Darcy sighed and hopelessly shook his head, remembering that his aunt currently refused to correspond with him after his refusal to marry Anne. But nothing could be done about that. Just as he was going to call Mrs. Reynolds to prepare for his departure to Rosings, Mrs. Reynolds stepped into the room.

"A letter from Mr. Bingley, Sir," she bowed.

Darcy nodded hi head in gratitude before hastily opening the letter.

_Fitzwilliam,_

_I call upon you for urgent matters. After Mr. Bennet's death, Mr. Collins is contemplating the future of the Longbourn estate. I got news in town the other day that he and Mrs. Collins are both staying with the Lucases while they decide the manor's fate. Unfortunately, Mr. Collins has called upon Lady Catherine for her aid. Your Aunt is on her way to Hertfordshire to visit the Longbourn estate and offer her suggestions. It is in my hopes if you can come and settle the matters before either Lady Catherine or Mr. Collins make a most disadvantageous decision for the Bennet family. For the moment, the Bennets do not know of this, as Jane thinks it wise to keep such a predicament away from her mother's worries. _

_ Yours & c. _

_ Charles Bingley_

Darcy's eyes widened. Mr. Collins was acting faster than Darcy thought he would. Immediately, he hurried to the front of the manor.

"Mrs. Reynolds, I need you to send word to Netherfield Park of my soon arrival," he called before hurrying outside to order the carriages himself.

No time could be wasted

* * *

Elizabeth sat by the fireplace, staring out the window. Her body was numb and her mind a blur. She was dressed in black from top to bottom, and although Lydia and Kitty wore lighter colored dresses soon after the burial, Elizabeth insisted on wearing black.

While Lydia, Kitty, and Mary made great efforts to resume life normally, Elizabeth found it to be a rather impossible task. Her mind repeatedly thought of only one thing: her father was gone and was never to return. When her thoughts did drift, however, from her father's death, nothing comforting could be brought to mind.

Mrs. Bennet busied herself with chores, both trying to distract herself and appear normal to others, although it was quite clear to everyone that she was worrying tremendously about the future of her daughters' fates. Charles had taken Jane back to Netherfield, where the Jane quietly mourned for her father. Though Elizabeth was free to visit Jane whenever she desired, her visits were filled with silent tension as their father's death loomed the atmosphere, filling every gap between conversations. Matthew tried his best to console his fiancée, but Elizabeth found little comfort within the breadth of his arms. Elizabeth sighed and a loose tear escaped from the corner of her eye.

"Lizzy! What are you doing wasting your time when you ought to be preparing for your wedding?" Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as she appeared by the hallway, hands cross on her hips.

"Just another moment, Mama," Elizabeth grudgingly answered, hiding her irritated face from her mother.

"Insolent girl, you are soon to be a married woman. What will Matthew say when he finds you nonsensically staring out the window every single day? What kind of a wife will you make for a man? Hurry and get up from your seat. I will tolerate no laziness under this roof," exclaimed Mrs. Bennet in a raised voice before she threw up he hands in frustration and swept from the room.

Elizabeth sighed and rose from her chair. Now she was left to cope with her mother's nerves alone without her father's defense. She made her way to the drawing room and scattered a few pieces of paper across the table. Absentmindedly, she mixed the papers around, not in the mood of doing anything.

"Lizzy, what have you been doing recently?" asked Lydia with a smug smile as she skipped to a stop in front of Elizabeth.

"Mourning," Elizabeth answered without even looking at her sister. Of all people, she did not want to be in Lydia's company.

"You are not," said Lydia, the smirk on her face growing wider.

Elizabeth glared at her.

Lydia ignored her and chirped, "Delivery service."

Walking up to the table, Lydia dropped two stacks of letters. Stunned, Elizabeth blinked blankly at her sister.

Her sister looked back at her and shrugged. "Enjoy," she grinned before turning on her feet and skipping out of the room.

Curious, Elizabeth drew the stack of letters closer to her. When she saw the first envelope, she gasped. On it was her address, scribbled out with a handwriting that belonged to none other than Darcy. Tucked before the envelope was a small note, and Elizabeth automatically removed it from the stack and quickly read it.

_Miss Elizabeth,_

_It was Mr. Darcy's wish to have all of his letters delivered to you. He also requested me to inform you that it was I who kept the letters from reaching their addressee years ago. My actions were done in consideration for what would be the best for you and Mr. Darcy. I am sure you will understand, for all this was done as a sisterly precaution to protect you from harm. _

_Yours sincerely, &c._

_Caroline Bingley_

Elizabeth froze after she read the note, her mind whirling with thoughts. She could not believe the nerve of Caroline to keep those letters from her while claiming to do the righteous thing. Shaking Caroline's thoughts aside, she proceeded to opening the first of the envelopes.

_Dearest Miss Elizabeth,_

_It is of my deepest pain and sorrow that I inform you of my departure to France. Urgent business sends me abroad to another country, although I grieve at the thought of being apart from you. I would have in all my greatest wishes to bid you farewell in person, but I knew not if I had the strength to tear myself from you. I beg you not be angry at my sudden departure, for it was with tremendous threat to my family's business that I was persuaded to make this journey. I will write again soon in detail when I arrive in Italy. Until then, I will think of you often and love you all the more._

_ Yours &c._

_ Fitzwilliam Darcy_

Tears stained the paper and Elizabeth numbly reached for the next letter. The next one explained Darcy's business in detail and of Caroline's residence with him and Georgiana. He had stated everything clearly so that no misunderstanding could occur, and Elizabeth grieved that those letters never reached her hands in time. When she was finished, letters were strewn all over the desk, and Elizabeth picked them up randomly, reading and scanning different parts over and over again.

…_I did not think a person would be capable of feeling all these sentiments at once. However, I find myself in such a predicament. How can one miss another so much, love another so ardently, yet be at so far a distance that the only outcome is a fervent love paralleled with painful frustration?..._

The next,

…_I do not know of your feelings or emotions, but feel that mine ought to be professed clearly. Many will call me a fool for pursuing love so hopefully and helplessly, but I will never cease to love you even if you withdraw all your feelings from me… _

And the next,

…_Although you reply none to my letters, I hold in my greatest and highest hopes that you might be reading them at this very moment…_

And the next,

…_I am now caught at a crossroad, and I must explain my thoughts to you. If I return now, a fair portion of my family's business will cease to exist. However, I have thought of a solution. If you are willing, I can ask for your father's permission and you can stay with us in France. There is a flat next to mine that you can share with Georgiana and Caroline, and it will be of no burden at all. In fact, Georgiana is quite excited at that prospect. I think it will be pleasurable for you to visit awhile, for I think Italy will suit your taste very well. I will not have you traveling across countries alone, so I will send my men to accompany you on the journey if you are willing to comply. If, however, it is not your wish to leave your family and travel abroad, please consider the other option. If your feelings for me are still what they were nearly a year past, please have faith in my soon return…_

And the last,

…_It has been a year since we have thus been separated. How much longer I can endure this, I know not. Dearest Elizabeth, I beg you to write back and tell me of all your sentiments. My feelings for you have not changed, nor shall they ever. But if it is truly your wish to break all of your acquaintance from me, I will respect your decision and let it be…_

Tears streamed down Elizabeth's cheeks as she sat in her chair. She was sobbing freely now, and the letters in her hand trembled wildly with her shaking fingers. She bit her lip, trying to calm herself in the midst of her tears.

Suddenly, the door opened.

Mrs. Bennet, oblivious to her daughter's current state, dashed in with a panicked yet excited look.

"Lizzy," she cried, flailing her arms about her head. "Hurry! Jane, Mr. Bingley, and Mr. Darcy are waiting at the door."

Elizabeth heart leapt wildly at the last name she heard, and she froze in her seat. How was she to greet him with her eyes bright red and swollen? Hastily, she began to shuffle all the letters together to put them away, but Mrs. Bennet would not allow her.

"Lizzy, what is that? What are you doing? We have no time to clean; the guests are at the door. I'm sure they'll understand for a little mess on the table, for they gave us no warning for their arrival," she exclaimed, dragging Elizabeth out the door.

Elizabeth had no time to protest as her mother was already half dragging her down the hall, and she only had a brief moment to free herself from her mother's grasp and wipe away her tears. Trailing behind her mother, she saw the door open and heard footsteps coming into the house.

A turn at the corner, and Elizabeth stood, face to face with Darcy.

* * *

a/n: my greatest apologies for such a long wait. i'd like to blame it on AP exams. Anyways, hoped you liked the chapter, thanks for reading, and please drop a review.


	21. A Fixation of Matters

a/n: I apologize for the unreasonably late update. Projects, finals, graduation prep have kept me busy this last month or so. However, now that I'm out of school, I promise to get these last chapters out faster. We're almost finished! I'm thinking two or three chapters at the most to go!

* * *

The moment he set his eyes on her, he knew that something was amiss. Her eyes were red and swollen; the usual spirited pair of hazelnut eyes neither shined nor twinkled. Instead, they gazed hollowly back at him, surprised and troubled at his unexpected appearance.

His heartbeat quickened and hers seemed to do the same. Nervously, he gave her a quick bow and she responded with a hasty curtsey. Their brief connection with each other was soon interrupted as Mrs. Bennet loudly exclaimed how delighted she was to receive company so early that morning.

"Mr. Bingley, Mr. Darcy, what an honor it is! My dear Jane, I must say that you are looking very beautiful today," Mrs. Bennet declared, throwing her hands upwards in a cheerful and welcoming matter. It was on Jane's visits that Mrs. Bennet returned to her usual self.

"Do come in," she continued, leading her guests down the hall towards the very room Elizabeth was in.

Elizabeth opened her mouth to protest, but soon found it to be of little use. Her mother was blathering obliviously onwards about how two piglets had gone missing for thrice days before reappearing under her bed covers last night. Finally, Mrs. Bennet took a turn and let her guests into the room.

As soon as Darcy walked in, his eyes wandered over to the pile of strewn letters, recognizing them as his own when he saw the Darcy seal on one of the envelopes. When he glanced over to Elizabeth, her wide eyes explained everything. She had read them all; understood the entire matter clearly.

He watched as she quickly strode to the table, hastily trying to put all the scattered letters into one big pile. Without another thought or hesitation, he went to her side.

"Allow me to help you, Miss Bennet," he said, gathering a couple letters together.

Elizabeth gave him a weak nod. After a few moments, he noticed silent tears sliding down her cheeks. He felt his heart twinge and he painfully winced in response.

Putting the last pile of letters to the side of the table, he gently spoke to her.

"Are you all right, Miss Bennet?" he inquired, looking at her closely.

Under his intimate gaze, Elizabeth felt her knees tremble.

"I will be."

Jane, who by this point had noticed the interaction between Darcy and her sister, gave a suggestion to take a walk in the garden, leading her mother and husband away from the room. Elizabeth gave Jane an appreciative smile as she watched them disappear around the corner.

Turning to Darcy, she looked guiltily to the floor. It was she who owed him an apology.

"I read your letters," she began softly. "And I owe you an apology for my actions."

Darcy's gaze softened on her and he replied, "You owe no one an apology. It is not your fault Miss Bingley diverted the letters. Her actions led to a misunderstanding that I would never blame you for. Do not worry, Miss Eliza-"

"I should have waited," she interrupted, drawing her eyes up to look him in the face.

Darcy had a sudden urge to walk up and hold her, but he slouched his shoulders and gripped the back of a chair instead. He could not let propriety slip at Elizabeth's house. The servants were always watching.

"And I was a fool not to," she finished softly.

He could bear it no longer as he looked at her face that was stained wet with her tears. In one big stride, his arms wrapped around her in a matter of seconds, pulling her close in a tight embrace.

Elizabeth gasped when she found herself in Darcy's arms before calming down in his presence. She felt safe in his arms, secure and tucked away from the rest of the world. Finally, when he let go of her, Darcy drew back and studied her face.

"I had to see you…I had to," he said. "I had to see that you were faring well."

"I still miss him," she whispered, a faraway look settling in her eyes.

"And it would be wrong of you to think any other way. Your father was a good man. I'm so sorry," he soothingly answered, eyes softening as his look upon her filled with empathy. He knew he had felt the same way when his own mother had passed on.

"A part of me died when you left; another when my father departed this life. How many parts of me am I to lose?" she asked, the expression on her face so pitiful that Darcy had trouble seeing this part of Elizabeth's character. He had seen in her happiest moments, heard her frustrated grunts of anger, and yet, he had never seen mourn in her deep grievances. This new face of Elizabeth both alienated him and drew him closer to her more sensitive side.

He was at loss; he did not know what to say. He knew that no words could be spoken to ease the pain; the feeling of loss would have to mend itself with time. And even so, his way of comforting her would exceed the limits of propriety. Though it pained him to leave her in such a state, he concluded that solving the matters of his estate would be his way of showing his affection. He was going to take as much as he could and leave her with less to worry about.

"Miss Elizabeth," he started, his eyes slowly meeting hers. "You must understand that urgent business calls me to take a trip into town. My appointment is soon, and I cannot afford to delay."

"You are leaving?" asked Elizabeth sounding a bit more sentimental than she had intended.

Darcy nodded.

"So soon?" came her whisper.

The words tugged at him, but he forced himself to nod once more.

"I assure you that I will visit again as soon as matters permit me to do so," he said, taking a curt bow.

Elizabeth nodded and slowly followed him out the door to send him off. After exchanging quick farewells, Elizabeth watched until his carriage disappeared beyond the twisting path.

* * *

Darcy hesitated at the door to Lady Catherine's room. He had received news that she was staying in town, resting for the day before going to visit the Bennet estate the following day. He sighed. There was no predicting what his aunt's reaction would be. Slowly, he brought his hands up to the door and knocked.

A butler came to the door and Darcy recognized him as one of his aunt's main servants. The butler immediately greeted Darcy and led him into the room before calling to his mistress that company had arrived. Soon enough, footsteps approached the sitting room and Lady Catherine strode into the room. When she saw her nephew, however, she came to a sudden stop.

Darcy turned towards his aunt and bowed respectfully, waiting for her to speak. Finally, after a disgruntled look of irritation, Lady Catherine spoke.

"Have you come to ask for my daughter's hand or an invitation to walk back through the door in which you just came from?"

Darcy clasped his fingers. This was not going to be easy.

"Neither," came his answer.

"Then there is nothing that I can offer you," said Lady Catherine with an indifferent shrug.

"There is nothing that I want from you, my dear aunt," he responded. "I speak of something I believe will be of your benefit."

Lady Catherine narrowed her eyes. She was all but a fool. She knew he had only one concern on his mind the moment he had walked through the door.

"You are gravely mistaken if you think that wretched Bennet girl will ever be of any benefit to me. A kind of curse, more like. No need make your intentions sound sweeter than they are, Fitzwilliam. You know as well as I do the reason why I am here."

Darcy held back a grimace. Old as his aunt was, her mind was crystal clear. Women her age would have problems telling apart a rooster from a hen, but not her. She could carry on a conversation solely about chickens, from which species upper members of society owned to how the plumage must be groomed just right to provide easier plucking before cooking. Such was the way of his aunt, and he could only adhere to it.

"Then I will say so straightforwardly. You must not allow Mr. Collins to receive Longbourn," Darcy said, sending a determined glance towards his aunt.

Lady Catherine looked at her nephew wearily. "I have thought for a while that you might come to tell me that. But I am not going to do Mr. Collins the displeasure of denying him from his rightful inheritance."

"So you will not cast your sympathy on a family with no place to live?"

"If you are so concerned about the Bennets finding a place to live, it is not difficult to help them find a new estate. Seeing as though you have no wife to dote upon, might as well buy your already-taken-other a new manor," Lady Catherine dryly replied, taking a sip of her tea.

"Her pride will not allow it. Miss Bennet is not one to take advantage over another. She will do everything in her power to avert her family from crisis, but will not ask for unnecessary help from a third party."

Setting down her teacup, Lady Catherine snorted. "Then the insolent girl shall have to amend her ways."

Upon hearing the insult his aunt threw at Elizabeth, Darcy narrowed his eyes and gritted his teeth. Without thinking, he said what he had long wanted to say.

"I have always thought more highly of you, my dear aunt. That you would side with those less fortunate than you and not fling around a haughty air of arrogance built upon inherited fortune."

Lady Catherine stared blankly at him. Was Darcy scolding her?

"I have learned many things from Miss Elizabeth Bennet—lessons that the people of my own birth status cannot teach: compassion, equality, and most of all, humility. It matters not which class one is born in, for if one never masters these molds of character, not even the highest social status can save one from destitution. It is not the lack of wealth and riches that makes one poor; but rather, the lack of morality and congruence that defines the true meaning of what it means to pitiably live. We are blessed with an abundance of wealth, knowing all the while that fate does not allow fortune to grace the lives of every individual. And yet, we choose to scoff at those less fortunate and approach them with contempt. Do not be so quick to judge those below your status, for there are lessons they can offer that you have never taken."

Lady Catherine tilted her head towards the ceiling and thought for a long time. Throughout her entire life, she had been raised to set herself apart from those inferior to her. Gladly, she had passed on those fundamental teachings of upper society to her following generations. And here was her nephew, standing afore her to tell her that everything she once knew had not been true at all.

Looking at his unresponsive aunt, Darcy continued onwards.

"I implore you, dear aunt, to reconsider your beliefs and motives. I would like to remind you that wealth comes with the great power to influence. As Mr. Collins's esteemed patroness, one word from you will stop him from seizing the Longbourn estate."

Looking at Darcy, the old woman nodded, well aware of the dominance she held over Mr. Collins.

"Yet as Mr. Collins is under my responsibility, I cannot deprive him from the benefits of receiving Longbourn. He will be much happier living in a bigger estate."

Darcy shook his head. "You are mistaken. Mr. Collins will not move into the estate. He is a clergyman who follows his church. I do not believe Mr. Collins will leave his congregation for a new one. He is too much with them."

Lady Catherine pursed her lips, recounting what Darcy had said before she slowly nodded in agreement.

"Besides," Darcy added darkly, "so long as Longbourn is not located right next to Rosings, I do not believe Mr. Collins will change his place of residence. It is highly dubious that any reason should propel him to move further away from such a generous patroness."

"What you speak of is true. But you have not yet proposed a solution to the problem," said Lady Catherine, closely eyeing Darcy.

Though she was not particularly thrilled in helping Elizabeth, her nephew's determined efforts to sway her made her realized how much he cared for the girl. Darcy had always been her favorite nephew; the only man she could ever entrust Anne to. She felt sure that Darcy's affections for Elizabeth were deep enough to compel him to cease correspondence with her if she refused to help him. And that was something she could not afford to lose. She needed Darcy. Her Anne's future depended on him.

She believed that it was would be only a matter of time before Darcy had no choice, but to submit to her wishes. He could not stay a bachelor forever—he would need an heir sooner or later. Now that Elizabeth was engaged to be married in a matter of weeks, Darcy would have no choice but to finally take a closer look at her daughter.

"I would like to purchase the Longbourn estate from Mr. Collins," Darcy replied, looking straight at his aunt.

Lady Catherine seemed initially surprised before her face settled to emit a look of pensiveness. She could persuade Collins to sell the estate, listing all that he would benefit from. From what she concluded, so long as Elizabeth was living with her family in Longbourn, a space would then be made for her daughter in Pemberley.

"And you plan on giving Miss Bennet the estate?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"As long as you will let me purchase the estate from Mr. Collins, I will take care of all the other details that are to follow," answered Darcy, not wanting his aunt to know more than what he cared to reveal.

"Do as you wish. I shall call for Mr. Collins immediately and tell him to sell the estate if that be your wish."

Darcy looked at his aunt. She seemed to have forgotten about their quarrel in Pemberley and was cooperating better than he had imagined she would.

"Thank you, Aunt Catherine," Darcy said, bowing to her. "I shall pay Mr. Collins a visit tomorrow and arrange the matters with him. If you will excuse me, I must be on my way to sort out other arrangements."

Darcy bid his aunt goodbye and left. He sighed in relief that a large portion of the matter was taken care of. What was left now was negotiating with Collins and paying Tennyson a visit. He decided that he would do the latter first.

* * *

a/n: special thanks to my beta :)


	22. The End to All Things

a/n: FINALLY FINISHED! My apologies for the worst-case scenario. Turns out, I hardly had internet access and the time to write. I wrote mostly after I got back--which was three days ago. However, my jet lag definitely helped give me time to write. Writing at three in the morning is quite the experience. Because of the very long gap between updates, I am updating before this chapter is betaed. So be warned, this chapter is completely fresh and has NOT been edited. I am simply writing and updating--a few minor spot checks here and there. Revisions will come later. Apologies for grammar/spelling mistakes.

And here's for the grand finale. Enjoy.

* * *

It was a modest estate of decent size and stature, conveniently located near town. Green hills surrounded the manor, cut across by a pebbled footpath. Elizabeth would like it here, Darcy thought. He could already imagine her taking walks under the big trees, exploring the spacious meadows. Flowers bloomed vibrantly in front of the house, decorating it with multifarious colors—a rare sight in the winter among the snow.

Approaching the house, Darcy walked up the steps and stood in front of the doorway. Elizabeth would lead a comfortable life here, he assured himself. Though the house was neither large nor wealthily ornate in its decors, Elizabeth would be taken care of. Here, Elizabeth would be loved. Here, she would be happy. Or so he hoped and prayed.

When the door opened, Darcy found himself face to face with Tennyson. Immediately, Tennyson recognized Darcy and amiably invited him in. Darcy took one look around the house, which he found to be very similar to its outside—neither under decorated nor overly gaudy.

"I have come to ask of your opinion over certain matters," Darcy began, hands crossed over his lap.

Tennyson appeared rather surprised, though he nodded his head after a brief hesitation.

"I am concerned as to where the Bennets may reside after their father's death."

Tennyson rubbed his brow. It was apparent that he too had already given much thought to the problem.

"I have spoken with Elizabeth over this matter a couple times before. She and her family hope that Mr. Collins will allow them to keep their stay with a monthly rent."

"Have they proposed their suggestion to him before?" Darcy questioned.

"I do believe that Elizabeth has already slightly hinted the suggestion to her friend Charlotte already. However, my knowledge tells me that Mrs. Collins has little say over this matter. I daresay that the fate of the estate lies in the hands of your Aunt, Mr. Darcy."

Darcy nodded in agreement. Matthew closely studied Darcy's expression as he had been trying to figure out the motive behind Darcy's visit the moment he had stepped into the house. After another look at Darcy's ponderous face, Matthew concluded that he was making plans of his own. He had heard many accounts of Darcy's personality and was well aware of what many had said about his stiff and overwhelming arrogant presence. He heard that Darcy was a man of means, making him someone powerful and rather intimidating. Matthew glanced at Darcy and found him silently sitting in the armchair without a word, creating a loud silence he dared not to break.

Matthew had almost immediately related his visit to Elizabeth, and it alerted him to see how much the man still cared for her. He had been aware of their interactions, and it was more than obvious that Darcy still carried strong feelings for her. From time to time, he could almost even swear that Elizabeth returned those emotions. And every time, he had covered up his sentiments of jealousy and insecurity with self-assurance, telling himself that he had Elizabeth all to himself. But even so, the slightest interactions or matters including both Darcy and Elizabeth alarmed Matthew.

He had vaguely learned of Elizabeth's past with Darcy through Charles, for Elizabeth rarely mentioned Darcy. And from his knowledge, it was Elizabeth who left Darcy many years ago. So then, why did he care so much over their slight conversations? Elizabeth had left Darcy for him, had she not? Matthew blinked and cleared the thoughts out of his mind. So long as Elizabeth was his, he did not care how Darcy felt for her.

Darcy stood up from his seat. As Matthew eyed Darcy, he wondered why the guest was so soon to leave, but thought it best not to ask.

"I will be leaving you now," Darcy said, bowing to his brief host. "Thank you for having me."

"The pleasure is all mine," Matthew answered, returning Darcy's bow.

"I am afraid that I shall have to intrude on your hospitality once again tomorrow."

Matthew, now a bit more puzzled, slowly nodded. "It shall be of no inconvenience. You must know that you are welcomed here."

Darcy gave a polite smile and left. When he left, Matthew closed the door and stood in the room for a couple more minutes. Darcy, indeed like how many others have already concluded, was rather queer. He seemed a bit too reticent and quiet, and Matthew nearly perceived him to be antisocial. Matthew wondered to himself how Darcy was able to accomplish business affairs with such a withdrawn personality. Even more, he wondered what Elizabeth had seen in Darcy and questioned why she had ever been with him. Perhaps that was why she left him, Matthew thought. Perhaps it was his character that caused her to leave him.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Darcy knocked on the door of Charlotte's home. He was sure that his aunt had already visited Mr. Collins earlier that afternoon. When Mr. Collins opened the door, he did not seem the least surprised to see Darcy standing before him.

"Mr. Darcy, what an honor this is. Please, do come in," Mr. Collins said stepping backwards, spreading his arm out in a welcoming manner.

Darcy briefly nodded and stepped in.

"I do believe that my aunt has already visited you," Darcy said, sitting down.

"Oh yes, I was ever so privileged to have my own patroness visit me away from home," Mr. Collins answered with a dignified expression.

"It is good that my aunt has already come by here. I can now proceed with less explanations regarding my business."

Mr. Collins nodded. "My patroness has told me her nephew's great interest of buying this estate. She has told me of the benefits I am to receive when the house is sold."

Darcy nodded happily. His aunt had already done most of the work for him.

"As much as I would like to comply with her sensible suggestion, however, I would have to admit that it favors me not to sell the estate."

Darcy nearly groaned. Quickly recovering himself, he asked, "Why may I ask, would you favor keeping it?"

"The very reason why you would like to buy it," replied Mr. Collins, snapping his fingers. "Longbourn could be some sort of a long term investment. Because I am a clergyman and make only a decent living, I doubt that I will ever have such a chance again to invest in something like this."

Darcy twitched his mouth and narrowed his eyes to think. Why of all times, did Mr. Collins choose now not to obey his patroness? His eyes lit up when he thought of something to persuade Mr. Collins with.

"I have a summer house in Kent. If you will accept my offer to purchase the estate, you may have that house in exchange for your investment."

At this, Mr. Collins's eyebrows rose dramatically. He had heard of the Darcy house in Kent and of its valuable assets. A trip here and there with Charlotte in Kent sounded like a fair exchange. But then again, was there some kind of catch in this generous offer? No man in his right mind would give away an estate worth many times more than the one he was about to buy.

"If I may be so bold to ask why you would like to purchase Longbourn so badly?"

Darcy sighed. "I have my own reasons, and I hope you mind not if I beg to remain silent."

Mr. Collins nodded. He knew that Darcy's purchase was somehow tied in with Elizabeth and that Darcy would do anything to keep Elizabeth happy at any cost.

"The estate is yours for four thousand pounds."

"Of course," Darcy said after a brief hesitation. He knew Mr. Collins had figured out his motives and sought to take advantage of him. Longbourn was not worth more than three thousand pounds, while the house in Kent was worth at least seven thousand. However, Darcy opted not to return Mr. Collin's stinginess and did not bother to haggle. He could make do a couple thousand pounds less. If that would bring the smile back to Elizabeth's face, he thought it was well worth the deal.

* * *

The next day early in the morning, Darcy went back to visit Matthew.

"Mr. Darcy, I must say that you have good timing. You would have missed me if you had come a minute later. I am just now on my way to Longbourn."

A wave of emotions passed through Darcy and he fought to control his sentiments.

"If that be so, I must not keep you from your affairs. Perhaps I will find a more suitable to call on you."

"If you do not mind, Mr. Darcy, you may come with me to Longbourn on horseback. We can discuss any matters you wish to dissolve."

Darcy considered Matthew's offer. He wanted to see Elizabeth, but not when Matthew was present. He knew he would feel out of place like an intruder in an uncomfortable territory. However, the thought of seeing Elizabeth again so soon overrode his thoughts and he agreed.

"It sounds like a fine idea, Mr. Tennyson."

When the two were properly saddled, both made their way towards Longbourn. After a brief silence, Darcy spoke.

"I visited Mr. Collins yesterday and I bought the Longbourn estate."

Matthew froze, now knowing why Darcy had done such a thing. A wave of panic struck him. What if Darcy chose to use this bait as an offer to draw Elizabeth away from him?

Seeing Matthew's alarmed expression, Darcy quickly added, "I want to give you ownership to the estate."

Matthew's jaw nearly dropped. He found himself at loss for words and fumbled for a reply.

Darcy brushed his stuttering aside and said, "It is the least I can do to wish Miss Elizabeth and you a happy future."

"But—but—certainly we can buy the estate from you. It is not fair for you to purchase the estate and give it away. I cannot accept such a gift or anything equivalent to this amount," Matthew said, stopping his horse.

"I know not how much you know of Miss Bennet's past with me, but I will tell you one thing. I owe Miss Elizabeth many things; I have robbed her of many things. This is the least I can do to right my wrongs and amend my regrets. Please, accept this humble offer, for it is nothing compared to the real price of my doings."

Matthew rode silently onwards, not knowing exactly what to say.

"I will forever be in thanks, Mr. Darcy," he finally managed to reply.

Darcy nodded and Longbourn slowly came into view.

* * *

Elizabeth was walking in the woods, taking a breath in the refreshing morning air. She found refuge in nature, and the lively chirping of the birds around her raised her spirit. If her mood had been any lighter, she would have burst into song.

Not too far away, she heard the pattering of hooves. Looking towards the sound, she lifted her head to see two figures on the horses. Almost immediately, Elizabeth recognized Matthew and the man next to him. At the sight of Darcy, her heart leapt forwards and she fought to contain her smile. Far away, she saw Matthew wave to her. She gave a brief nod and looked down.

Out of the middle of nowhere, she saw and heard the scattering of a terrified mouse as it rushed across the road right in front of the horses. Following the mouse closely was a snake slithering on the run to chase after its breakfast. After a few panicked whinnies and frightened rears, two thumps were subsequently heard. When Elizabeth looked over, both Tennyson and Darcy had been thrown onto the ground.

Elizabeth gasped. Immediately without another thought, she ran to Darcy's side. Darcy clutched his right arm and groaned.

"Mr. Darcy!" Elizabeth exclaimed, running over, "Are you all right?"

As Darcy gave a weak nod, Elizabeth bent down to help him up. Darcy's eyes met hers and lingered on her face before turning to look at Tennyson. A second later, Darcy cleared his throat just loud enough for Elizabeth to hear. Elizabeth quickly interpreted Darcy's gestures and froze. She had gone so quickly to Darcy's side that she had completely forgotten about her fiancé just a few feet away.

Quickly letting go of Darcy, Elizabeth turned around to find Matthew looking straight back at her. A look of confusion and disbelief was upon his face. Slowly and unsurely, Elizabeth walked to his side.

"Mr. Tennyson, how do you fare?" she asked, gently setting her hands on his shoulders.

At the sound of formality in Elizabeth's voice, Matthew winced. Perhaps he had been too blind in these matters after all. Perhaps what he had chosen not to see were lies merely conjured up to break even with his insecurity.

Nothing more was said as the three made their way back to Longbourn. Darcy, though secretly pleased that Elizabeth had first come to his side, felt like an intruder among the couple. Matthew, stricken with shock at the unveiling of the truth he had long denied, felt out of place and distant although Elizabeth walked by his side. Elizabeth, head bowed and hands dangling meekly at her sides, was silently reprimanding herself on her rash act of imprudence.

Darcy remained at Longbourn only for a brief while, as the silence that had fallen between the three grew tremendously uncomfortable. After Darcy's departure, Mrs. Bennet left the room to check on the kitchens.

A few silent moments between them, Elizabeth softly uttered, "I'm sorry."

To her surprise, Matthew replied, "Don't be."

Not knowing what to say, Elizabeth remained silent.

Matthew looked away. While Mrs. Bennet had chatted away, he had been thinking. He knew that Elizabeth was his if he chose to keep hold of her. He knew that Elizabeth would never shame her family by breaking apart an engagement so close to the wedding. Such an action would only lead to a spread of rumors in town and questions of Elizabeth's integrity. Darcy had come too late into the picture to tangibly disturb anything.

He loved Elizabeth—there was no doubt about that. But did he want to forever love somebody who could not freely reciprocate those feelings? He knew now that there was no denying the fact that Elizabeth loved Darcy. He had seen it himself when Elizabeth ran to his side, scared for Darcy's well being. But did watching his fiancée love someone else make him angry enough to keep a tighter grip on Elizabeth? Or was his love for her mature enough to let her go and be with someone she could truly be happy with?

"You love him, do you not?"

Elizabeth was pained by the vulnerability in his voice. He seemed both anxious and scared to hear her response, for her answer would undeniably confirm his fears. Elizabeth bowed her head. There was no use in lying. Matthew had seen all that he needed to. Deep down, Matthew knew the answer already.

"I do."

Upon hearing the answer, Matthew stood up and turned away from Elizabeth. He had heard the answer from her own lips and needed no further explanations. He could piece together the all the reasons why she loved Darcy and match them with her story. She had loved Darcy all along, and he could only wonder why the truth had not been unveiled to him earlier.

Seeing Matthew turn away from her, Elizabeth cried out, "I'm sorry. This is my fault entirely. You should not have been part of any of this. I should never have allowed this to happen."

Matthew turned back around to face her.

"I am not an unreasonable man. I would have listened to your side of the story had you not chosen to hide them from me. I cannot make you apologize for loving someone, but I cannot mask my troubled thoughts from you either. I had always brushed aside anything I thought went between you and Mr. Darcy, and now that the truth is clear, I feel like I have been living in one great big lie."

Elizabeth looked at Matthew and answered, "I had reasons for not telling you my feelings for Mr. Darcy. Years ago, he left me without warning and a terrible misunderstanding fell between us. You have a right to know."

And with that, she started recounting everything that had happened, from the letters Caroline Bingley had kept to Darcy's explanation. When she finished, she added, "I never told you because I did not want you to go through what I have gone through. You were the innocent one in all of this and deserved no ill outcome. I wanted to stay by your side because I know what it feels like to be abandoned by someone you love."

Matthew, who had been listening intently the entire time, finally spoke.

"And you were willing to sacrifice your own happiness for me?"

When Elizabeth's reply came, it was strong and firm.

"Yes."

"Then I should be glad that at least some of your thoughts and best intentions came towards me. This is what I admire most of you, Miss Elizabeth; your determination and consideration for the sake of others. I will not say that I am not at all pained or hurt by this matter, but I am letting you pick your own choice of roads."

"What? What can you possibly mean from—"

"Elizabeth, I am letting you go to him. I know you would want to," Matthew interjected.

Elizabeth, shocked, stuttered.

"You are—but I thought—no, you—we—cannot not do such a thing. People will talk, rumors will fly. Your own reputation will be at risk."

"Elizabeth, do you not remember the last words of your father? You promised him to live a happy life, and I promised him to give you the happiest life I could manage. This matter is under my control. Please allow me to pay duty to your father's will unto me."

Elizabeth closed her eyes and thought back to the day her father had died. She had promised him that day her happiness in life and she could see in Matthew his determination to give her that happiness.

"I will forever thank you for your thoughtfulness and generosity," replied Elizabeth, hardly daring to believe what was happening.

"I will leave Mr. Darcy to explain in detail to you his intentions with the future of Longbourn, but I will tell you this. He came to me this morning to tell me that he has purchased the estate from Mr. Collins already and wanted to give the property to me. Now that I will no longer be owning the house, you must settle these matters with him."

Elizabeth sank back into her seat, not exactly knowing what to think, gratefully looking at Matthew. Her heart pounded with excitement, although a tiny bit of guilt continued to gnaw at her. Try as she might to protect Matthew from harm, one rash action had ruined it all. But somewhere within her, she felt the resounding approval for her actions. Now, she was free to do what she wished.

"I will no longer intrude upon your businesses, though it would be my pleasure to remain as your acquaintance. I suspect that you would like to bring Mr. Darcy of this news personally. If you would rather not, however, I can make a trip to Netherfield on the way back."

Elizabeth immediately replied.

"I will tell Mr. Darcy myself. Thank you, Mr. Tennyson. It is my honor to have you in my circle of acquaintances."

Matthew bowed. "Then I shall be heading back. May all go well with you, dear Elizabeth," he said.

Elizabeth stood up and curtsied. "And all the best with you as well, Mr. Tennyson."

* * *

"Lizzie? What brings you here?" asked a surprise Jane as she walked to the door to greet her sister.

"Is Mr. Darcy here?" Elizabeth asked, looking around the entrance room.

"No, he is gone on an errand. However, he told me before he left that it shall be a quick one. Come, let us go sit in the parlor," Jane replied, even more anxious to know why her sister had come for Darcy.

It was hard for Elizabeth to hide her disappointment.

"Lizzie," Jane scolded, " You mustn't behave like this. You are engaged now, remember?"

"Nay, dear sister. I am no longer betrothed," Elizabeth answered, a radiant smile spreading across her face.

Jane's eyes widened with surprise. "What did you do now?" she asked, looking at Elizabeth disapprovingly.

Elizabeth shook her head and told Jane everything that had happened in the morning. When she finished, Jane hardly believed what Elizabeth had just said.

"I ought to congratulate you, but I am in such shock. For Mr. Tennyson to find out everything in that manner—good heavens!" Jane gasped.

Elizabeth sighed. "Indeed, it was never my intentions for him to ever find out."

Jane looked at Elizabeth understandingly. "But are you not glad that all ended well? Don't you favor this way that fate has taken more?"

Elizabeth nodded. "Most definitely."

Just then, a tall figure strode by the hallway, and Elizabeth's head immediately turned towards the direction. Jane nodded, encouraging Elizabeth to go after him. Stepping into the hallway, Elizabeth took a deep breath and called for him.

"Mr. Darcy?"

At the sound of her voice, Darcy whipped around, eyebrows raised when his eyes met Elizabeth's.

"Miss Elizabeth, I certainly did not know that you were visiting," he bowed, looking at her anxiously.

"Then you will be more surprised to know that I am visiting especially for you," Elizabeth answered with a coy smile.

"Ah, visiting another man who is not your betrothed, I see," Darcy smiled as he teased her.

Elizabeth frowned and wondered why Darcy had spoken similarly to Jane.

"Well, if I am not allowed to visit anyone who is not my betrothed, I am afraid that I shall never be able to visit another man in this world ever again."

It was a few seconds before Darcy's smile disappeared off his face, replaced by a confused look. Upon seeing Darcy's befuddled expression, Elizabeth laughed. Darcy's perplexed look turned into a frown.

"What do you mean you are no longer betrothed?" he questioned, a mix of excitement and wonder in his voice.

"Mr. Tennyson saw what happened today and decided to let me go," Elizabeth explained, looking up at Darcy. She then proceeded to tell Darcy of Matthew's intentions and his determination to keep his vow to the late Mr. Bennet true.

Slowly, Darcy's stunned expression turned into a wide smile.

"It is not usually my character to rejoice in another man's sorrows, but clearly this time—"

Darcy's eyes widened with surprise, his sentence cut short and remained unfinished.

Elizabeth had kissed him.

Although it was a quick and fleeting kiss, it was one that gave Elizabeth a bashful red cheek. Elizabeth took a small step back, unsure of how Darcy would respond. Almost as soon as she stepped back, Darcy drew her back towards him, returning her kiss.

"That was well worth the wait," he whispered, still holding her close.

A sputtering cough exploded behind them and interrupted Elizabeth and Darcy's intimate moment. When the couple turned around, they found a very wide-eyed Charles Bingley staring back at them.

"You," Charles gasped, "—and you", he breathed, pointing back and forth between Elizabeth and Darcy. "Have you lost your minds? What are you two doing?"

Never had Elizabeth heard or seen Charles loose his composure like this before. His face was pale and livid, the finger he pointed towards Darcy trembling. The situation would have been funny if Elizabeth had not been so embarrassed that Charles had caught them kissing.

Darcy let go of Elizabeth and held his hands up as if he was surrendering. With a roll of his eyes, he said, "It's not what it looks like, Charles."

Charles crossed his arms. "Then what was it supposed to look like? I cannot believe you would do such a thing to Mr. Tennyson, Darcy. To think, I always found your character to be quite admirable. But apparently not so," he exclaimed, his accusation loudly ringing down the hallway.

A few footsteps were heard and Jane entered the hallway. "What is with all of this yelling, Charles dear?" she asked, looking at her husband for an answer.

"They—they" Charles stuttered, turning bright red in the face, half embarrassed that he had seen something he was not supposed to.

"They _what_?" Jane asked, a smile slowly forming around her lips as the comedy of the situation slowly came to her understanding.

For a moment, Charles looked as if he refused to say what he had seen. He opened his mouth and nothing came out, clearly still in shock.

"_You_ ask _them_ of the horrible sin they have just committed," Charles finally managed to say, his eyes still bulging.

"And which dreadful transgression did you two just commit?" Jane asked, a hint of amusement in her voice.

Elizabeth and Darcy looked at each other, both trying hard to hold back their laughter.

"It was nothing, really," Darcy answered with a smile.

"We simply kissed," Elizabeth answered with a casual shrug.

"_Twice_," Darcy added with an emphasis, forming the number with his fingers.

Charles looked as though Christmas had been cancelled. His jaw dropped and his face was taut.

Jane laughed at Elizabeth and Darcy's teasing of her oblivious husband. "Charles dear, you must come with me as I have something very important to explain to you."

Under the insistence of his wife, Charles had no choice but leave the hallway after his wife, the most confounded look etched upon his face.

After Charles left with Jane, Elizabeth began to laugh freely, throwing her head back like she had not done in a long time. Darcy watched her with a new kind of happiness building up inside of him. Now that Elizabeth was his, it would be him watching her laugh like this everyday. He laughed along with her, without another thought in his mind.

When they finally stopped and Elizabeth paused to wipe a tear from her eye, Darcy spoke, his voice quickly changing to a sober tone.

"Miss Elizabeth Bennet, it would be my greatest honor if you will accept my hand in marriage."

"Alas, Mr. Darcy, it would be my greatest honor and pleasure indeed. The biggest blessing and happiness in my life that no one else can give me."

Darcy's face lit up and he drew Elizabeth into a tight embrace. When they pulled apart, he said, "I do believe someone in this household owes us one big apology."

Elizabeth laughed.

"Shall we?"

Elizabeth nodded and the pair went arm in arm down the hallway in search for Jane and Charles. With Darcy by her side, Elizabeth could not keep the smile off of her face. As she walked down the hall, she could not believe that Darcy would once again be by her side more than two years after their separation.

"I was wrong that day many weeks ago," Elizabeth softly said, looking at Darcy.

"Hmm?" Darcy asked, gazing down at her.

"There is and always will be a me and you."

* * *

a/n: So here you have it. Don't we all just love happy endings? I might put up an epilogue depending on reader interest. Please review!


	23. Epilogue: The Passing of Years

A/N: Here we go, the last bit to the story. Enjoy!

* * *

The sun shone brightly through the trees, its light a radiant beam in the clearing of the woods. A gentle breeze in the air sent the crisp rustle of leaves echoing down the footpath. At the sound of the dancing leaves, birds pitched in with their songs, sending trills of notes reverberating throughout the trees. A light-hearted laughter broke out and rang vibrantly into the morning sky, adding to the many colors of sound. Not a second later, it was joined by a deeper, more masculine chuckle. Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam Darcy walked together, hand in hand, side by side.

As the garden approached, Elizabeth's eyes feasted on the colors of every flower blooming brilliantly under the warming sun. The beauty of the garden during the early month of April never ceased to amaze her, enchanting her eyes with its every element. She was in a waking dream, living in a reality so grand that it was nearly indistinguishable from a faint, idealistic and surreal illusion. In her earlier years of marriage, she often found herself questioning the authenticity of it all.

She was married—and not just to any man. Her husband was the prince of gallantry and charm, the one she had barely dared to dream of many years ago. He was the one who had taught her the lessons on prejudice and the injustice it brought to character, the one she had come to love and hold as dear as any other—if not more. He was the center of her life, the one who she looked to for guidance and support, who was ready to catch her in his arms whenever life struck her down.

Their share of fights was many, but their times of reconciliation were just as much. Many times in her earlier days of marriage, Elizabeth recalled sleeping in a room far away from their bedroom. But just as many times she remembered returning to the master chamber. Though the arguments often seemed to draw the couple apart, it was clear in the end that adversity and resolution brought them closer together. Elizabeth knew she loved Darcy before she married him, but she never knew how deeply and profound the love could grow as it matured. Slowly and surely, he became the most important person in her life. He was her closest confider, her most loyal friend, her dearest husband. Never until she took part in it, did Elizabeth find the blessings of matrimony.

She was once afraid that their marriage would grow stale and cold as her parents' union did, but she was reassured that such an occurrence would never be between her and Darcy, for everyday in their marriage was different. She never once found herself living the same day twice, nor did she ever experience a change of feelings for her husband. She only wondered how she had managed to live most of her life without him and goggled at how she was once willing to trade him for someone else.

Elizabeth sighed. So much had changed in the last few years of her life, and she could hardly believe that all of it was for the better. Although her sister and Mr. Tennyson's stories had happy endings, she felt like she was the luckiest of them all; blessed in such a number she can't keep count.

Elizabeth snapped out of her thoughts as she heard footsteps hurriedly pattering behind her, accompanied by an explosive stream of laughs and screams. Elizabeth and her husband turned around to find their children running towards them, the eldest son chasing the younger one.

"Papa!" yelled a young dark-haired boy of five, dashing up to his father and hiding behind him. A few moments later the boy, peeping from behind his father daringly called out to his older brother, "Come and get me now, Alexander."

As Alexander began his bold approach, the boy began to scream eagerly, jumping up and down whilst holding his father's hand, half excited and half scared. Without a warning, he took off, running in a circle around his parents before finding his mother as another source for refuge. Darcy watched his sons and chuckled in amusement.

"Everett, dear, where is your little sister?" Elizabeth questioned, gently stroking her son's hair.

"I don't know," Everett mumbled, keeping an eye on Alexander as he clung tightly to his mother's waist.

A short distance away, Elizabeth heard a wail.

Everett's head turned towards the direction and said with a bright smile to his mother, "There she is."

Sure enough, the nurse was soon seen to approach, carrying a crying toddler in her arms.

"I apologize, Mrs. Darcy for the disturbance, but your daughter—"

The nurse was interrupted as the little girl stopped crying instantaneously at the sight of her mother and immediately reached over to be held.

"Mama," she screeched, holding her arms out, loose blonde curls dangling at her shoulders.

"Thank you, Mrs. Richards. I will take her for now," Elizabeth said and reached over for her daughter as the nurse took her leave.

The girl buried her face into her mother's neck and softly whimpered.

"There now, Emma, everything is fine," Elizabeth hushed, "Were you missing your mother?" she asked, gently patting Emma's back.

The toddler hiccupped and calmed down before she shyly glanced sideways at her father.

Darcy caught his daughter's look and smiled. "You _only _missed your mother?" he chanced as he walked over, tapping Emma on her nose. Emma wrinkled her nose and giggled.

"Aren't you forgetting someone else?" Darcy continued, now tickling his daughter playfully. Emma's previous temperament changed entirely as she burst into laughter, wiggling about her mother's arms as she tried to dodge and escape her father's tickles.

Chuckling, Darcy took his daughter into his arms and lifted her into the air, bouncing her before holding her close. Emma's laughter grew and she contentedly looked into her father's eyes before hugging his neck and planting a wet kiss on his cheek.

"I don't know about you, but I missed you very much, my dear," he whispered into her ear with a smile, returning his daughter's kiss.

"Lizzy," he called, walking over to join his wife who was now resting on a bench with their sons, "We ought to give the nurses a break and be with the children a couple of days."

Elizabeth's eyes lit up. It was not often that she was able to spend entire days with her children, for Darcy was the one who had insisted the children grow up with nurses. Elizabeth, who never had a nurse, was quite opposed to the plan. She felt that it was her duty as a mother to care for the children entirely by herself. Darcy, however, being raised in high society deemed that nurses were essential to raising every child. Although Elizabeth spent as much time with her children as she could, her two-year-old daughter still spent a large amount of time with her nurse.

"Just us?" Elizabeth questioned, putting an arm around each of her sons.

Darcy smiled.

"Just us," he answered, "It will be nice having the whole family together without one of you boys always disappearing around the house," he continued, casting a firm look at his sons.

Under his father's stern gaze, Everett immediately stopped fidgeting and looked up solemnly at his father. Darcy's lips gave a slight quirk upon seeing his son's overly serious face.

"It will also be nice if we traveled somewhere. It has been a while since we visited your sister Jane, Lizzy. We can travel to Netherfield and visit a couple other places. I have yet to show you boys London," Darcy said, turning to face Alexander. "Do you remember London in your studies, Alex?" he questioned.

The boy nodded and smiled.

"What do you think, Lizzy?" Darcy asked, bouncing Emma on his knee.

"Perhaps the traveling can be put off for a month or two? I would rather not travel in the earlier months," Elizabeth softly said, her eyes meeting Darcy's.

Darcy half wondered at what his wife meant, but he decided to agree without questioning her.

"If that be your wish, dear," he said, "I will write a letter to Charles telling him that the five of us will be there in a short while."

"Six," Elizabeth corrected with a wide smile, her hand sliding protectively over her belly.

Darcy nodded for a brief moment before what Elizabeth said sank into his mind. He stopped, eyes widened with anticipation and surprise.

"Six?" Darcy exclaimed, a grin quickly turning into a full smile. "We are to have another?"

"Yes," Elizabeth proudly answered, "I had been meaning to tell you, you know."

Darcy continued to stare at his wife, with a dazed and stupefied grin plastered on his face. Elizabeth laughed to herself. He had looked like this every time she told him of such news. He looked like a child overwhelmed with presents on Christmas Day.

"Six," Darcy clumsily said again, childishly nodding his head with a silly smile as he absentmindedly stroked Emma's hair. "That makes me father again. That also makes four children."

Elizabeth blinked. "Yes Fitzwilliam, I see that you are proficient with your arithmetic."

Darcy laughed and reached over to kiss his wife.

Happily, he announced to his family, "This is absolutely wonderful."

-_The End-_

* * *

A/N: Alas, we've finally reached an end to the story. First off, special thanks to my Beta for everything. Secondly, I'd like to thank all of you who have been reading the story. Whether you've followed this story from the beginning or joined in the middle, I really appreciate you guys for reading. Also, thanks to all who have been loyally reviewing--the reviews really did keep me going during certain points of the story. Your anticipation for chapters yet to come has always been an encouragement for me to continue writing. For those of you who haven't reviewed, I really hope you enjoyed the story although I've never had a chance to hear from you. All in all, this has been an amazing experience for my first piece of fanfiction.

Keep on a lookout for more stories in the future and once again, thanks so much. (:


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